#and i'm really really happy with how it went
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nhlclover · 1 day ago
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ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES
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pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.
warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke
word count: 11.6k
notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.
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The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.
“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”
At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.
“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.
Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”
“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”
You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?
The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.
When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.
Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.
Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.
Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.
You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”
Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.
“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.
“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.
“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”
The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.
“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”
Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.
“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.
As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.
Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.
“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.
Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.
You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.
The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.
With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.
But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.
You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.
One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.
Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.
A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”
Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”
His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”
Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”
Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.
But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”
It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.
“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.
An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.
You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”
Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.
In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.
But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.
You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.
You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.
The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.
The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.
Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”
He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.
Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”
You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.
Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.
Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.
Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”
Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.
Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.
You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.
Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.
Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.
Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.
Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.
────୨ৎ────
The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.
You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.
Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.
As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.
Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.
You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.
The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.
Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.
“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”
Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.
You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.
And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.
“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.
You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.
You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.
It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.
But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.
As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.
But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.
“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.
You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”
But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.
The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.
Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.
"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.
And then it was just the two of you.
The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.
“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.
��I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”
You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”
The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.
“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”
His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.
You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”
Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”
You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”
The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.
“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.
Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.
The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.
Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.
The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.
Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”
You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”
Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.
“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”
You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.
“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.
“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”
You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.
“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.
He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.
“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.
You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.
“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”
The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.
Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”
A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.
“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.
You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”
He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”
You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”
Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.
You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”
Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”
You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.
For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.
“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”
You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”
Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”
He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”
You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”
Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.
“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.
In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.
Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.
You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.
That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.
With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.
You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.
The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.
Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.
Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.
“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”
Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.
“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”
Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”
Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.
Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.
Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”
Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”
Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.
“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”
“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”
The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.
Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."
Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?
A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”
Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”
Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.
Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.
“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”
Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.
“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”
Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.
You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.
“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.
You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”
Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.
“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”
You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”
Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”
Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”
Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.
Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.
But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”
Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”
“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.
Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”
His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”
You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.
His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.
His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.
When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.
You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.
But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.
You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”
Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”
Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.
“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”
Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”
You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.
With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.
This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.
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whatswrongwithblue · 2 days ago
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As a queer woman in a red state, I needed to see this today. I still love my state. This is my home. Where I was raised, where I went to school, where my wife and I were married, where I work, where we bought our house, where we started our little farm, where my baby will be born, where my friends are. Where my entire communkty and safety net is. I'm so happy here. I love my life here.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My dad is one of the most die hard Republicans I know. He voted for Trump and yes, it breaks my heart. It makes me sick and at time makes me feel unloved. And I have to remember this is the man who basically took a bow of silence about me coming out for the first year. THAT man cried happy tears and gave the most moving speech at my wedding. He adores my wife and calls her is daughter now. THAT man's beliefs have changed in what for him is a hugely significant way. It's not enough YET but he reminds me that a lot of people who voted for Trump DO care, they just don't get it. Unfortunately we'll all learn the hard way now but it also means there are allies within the enemy, they just don't know it yet.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My in-laws have been so die hard Republican their entire lives and voted for Harris this year. Willing to get into loud family arguments and strain family relations over it. It's a change I had given up hoping to see and yet, it finally happened this year.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
My tiny town is largely made up of migrant workers. Every business here is bilingual. Including the grocery stores, post office, and city hall. This town wouldn't exist without migrant workers. No one knows more about how much our farming communities NEED migrant workers more than the tiny farm towns in red states. I promise you, in my state, it's the Republicans in the cities here that are pushing for mass deportation, not the farmers.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
I voted for one republican this year. Yep. An Asian American woman who grew up on a potato farm, married into the family of another potato farmer, ran on a campaign to halt rent inflation, allocate more state funding to education and foster care, and supported controversial decisions in the past to protect the environment. She was an incumbent and she won. She's playing the long game of knowing which party she can win running under in her home state and she's making a damn big difference in her little district.
Please stop saying "fuck red states."
There are young queer closeted kids here. I was one of them. I was voting and protesting for gay rights before there were any and I'll fucking do it again if I have to. Because over 1/4 people here DID vote for Harris and every single one of us have to stay and fight and be visible for the next generation of scared closeted queer kids because if we all left for blue states, who would be left to fight for them?
Please stop saying "fuck you" to the people I love and the home I've built. The future I see slowly building here can still happen. I still have hope. But if those fighting the good fight in red states give up now, if they say too say "fuck red states," then we really will have lost that future.
I love you everyone in red states right now.
I love you everyone who has family that is/will celebrate a Trump victory in your state.
I love you everyone surrounded by loved ones actively voting against your rights.
If you voted, you for Kamala, you did everything you could and you should be proud.
All of your frustration and anger is justified, understandable, and fair.
I’m sending you all love and peace.
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my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?
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qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.
(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).
like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.
if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.
regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.
"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."
so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.
you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.
she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"
you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.
"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."
you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.
"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.
this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.
his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.
he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.
his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.
you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.
"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.
he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.
in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.
"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.
he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.
"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.
"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.
you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.
it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.
you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.
he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.
he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.
he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.
you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.
the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."
you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."
"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.
so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.
already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.
he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.
you thanked him again.
"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"
he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.
the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.
was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?
"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.
the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."
quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.
the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.
you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.
he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.
"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.
a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.
maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.
you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.
"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.
you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.
"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.
"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.
as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.
you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.
and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.
you'd never see him again, you believed.
in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.
but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.
you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.
three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.
now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.
you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"
something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.
so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.
you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.
as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?
but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.
"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.
"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."
so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.
you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.
he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!
"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.
"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."
heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?
"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.
awesome save.
he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.
his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.
a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.
"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.
it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.
"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.
he gave a little nod.
"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?
he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.
you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.
"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.
he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"
were you?
you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.
you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.
"we're going!" his friends called.
"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.
his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.
"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"
your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"
and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.
"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.
and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.
do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!
oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?
you could have scowled.
and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.
everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.
teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.
it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.
so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.
he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.
this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?
"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.
you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.
ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!
but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.
"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"
not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.
"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.
i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.
"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.
and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?
why had you relinquished control so easily?
it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.
"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"
he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.
you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.
you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.
after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.
"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.
he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.
he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.
"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.
you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."
"only if i get one, too," he answered.
you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"
he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."
and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.
"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.
you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.
"did you keep your promise?" he asked.
of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.
suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.
there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.
"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"
did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.
"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.
"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.
you tried not to stare at them.
you gave him a last look before you left.
"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.
ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?
his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."
you didn't ask what was.
so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.
you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).
but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.
his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.
and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).
he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.
that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.
and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.
well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.
one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.
"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."
you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.
his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."
here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.
"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"
you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?
"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.
"good," he replied, content.
but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.
"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.
"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"
"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.
as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.
he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.
walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.
"oh god, i know that look," one said.
"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?
you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."
"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.
"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.
you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.
"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.
you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."
you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?
and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.
the air sparked.
"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."
his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.
"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.
"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.
you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."
something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."
dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.
things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.
you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.
but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.
i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.
but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."
he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."
you scrunched up your nose in confusion.
"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."
a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.
"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.
he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"
you sputtered.
"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.
"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."
you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.
"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."
his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"
"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"
he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."
he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.
so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.
a terrible, terrible idea, really.
especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.
"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.
you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."
"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.
so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"
his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.
you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.
he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.
you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.
"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.
something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.
he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?
but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.
"your turn, doll," he said.
you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.
you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.
you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.
"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"
you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"
he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."
the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.
it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.
"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.
he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.
"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"
he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."
you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."
his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.
sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.
but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.
you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.
it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?
don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.
when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.
it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.
but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.
as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.
after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.
closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.
you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.
it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.
your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.
before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.
but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.
and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.
you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.
so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.
but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.
so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.
what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.
you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.
don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.
he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?
and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.
but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?
time. you needed some time.
thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.
so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.
it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.
which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.
"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.
"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."
you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.
"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"
you were skeptical. "why?"
"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."
you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.
"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."
you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.
the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.
"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.
"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"
you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."
"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.
just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.
the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?
so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.
"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.
"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"
things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?
you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.
he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."
you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.
he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"
your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."
he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."
"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."
"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.
"you what?" you pressed.
he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."
you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.
you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.
"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.
so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.
so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."
so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.
here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.
someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.
the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.
you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.
"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."
you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.
"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."
you didn't have to think about it. "yes."
and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.
the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.
needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.
and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.
it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.
when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.
when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.
when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.
you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?
how slow could you bear?
every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.
so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.
he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"
you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."
he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"
you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?
babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.
then who was i praying to? you could have asked.
and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.
well, who answered? they would have responded.
what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."
you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.
"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.
"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"
you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."
you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.
and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.
you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.
you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.
he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.
kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.
like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.
you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.
he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.
"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.
he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"
you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.
"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"
"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."
he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.
"fuck, so tight," he rasped.
you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.
"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."
you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.
your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.
"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.
you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."
he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"
you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."
something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.
he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.
you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."
and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.
"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."
you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.
he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.
as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.
"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"
you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.
he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."
he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.
"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"
you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.
"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."
he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.
the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.
"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"
and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.
he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.
effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.
there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.
"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.
"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.
"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.
a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.
he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.
well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.
i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.
all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.
perhaps it was just none of their business.
fin.
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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 days ago
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second request, and this one is frost bite ❄️ prompt 29 with theo, i just think it’s sooo him!! thanks <3
Yes, yes it is him! In fact, I am so happy you requested this with him cause I wrote this prompt thinking about him only (๑>◡<๑)
ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list
ˋ°•*⁀➷ THEODORE NOTT #29: "Are you flirting with me or just bored?" "Maybe I'm bored of you not flirting back."
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Theodore Nott had been relentless all afternoon. Every time you glanced up from your book, he was already looking at you, smirking like he had some grand secret. Finally, you set down your quill, unable to ignore him any longer.
“Alright, Theo, what is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He tilted his head, still grinning that infuriating grin. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how tragic it is that you keep pretending you don’t want to be close to me.”
You let out an amused scoff. “Close to you? Theo, please. I’m sitting here trying to study, and you’re the one doing all the staring.”
“Because I don’t need to study, I'm smart,” he said, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug. “Besides, I’m just here for the view.” His gaze dropped pointedly to your lips, and you felt a flutter of heat rise in your cheeks. He was shameless.
“Oh, you’re here for the view?” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Well, enjoy it, because 'the view' is all you’re getting.”
His smirk only widened. “We’ll see about that, love.”
You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Are you flirting with me, or just really, really bored?”
Theo’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “Maybe I'm bored of you not flirting back.”
You laughed, giving him an amused once-over. “Right, because clearly, I’m so smitten with you.”
Theo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, playful whisper. “Admit it. You love the attention. You’d miss it if I stopped.”
You narrowed your eyes, a teasing glint flashing in them. “Oh? And what would you do if I flirted back? I don't think your poor heart will be able to handle it.”
He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but you caught it—and his expression softened just enough to reveal a flicker of surprise. “And you're underestimating my 'poor heart', amore mio. But to answer your question, I’d say it’s about time you stopped hiding your feelings.”
You laughed, hiding the blush that was threatening to escape at the endearment, leaning a bit closer, just close enough to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks despite the smirk he was trying to keep up. “Maybe I will… if you’re lucky.”
And before he could reply, you reached up, placing a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. His smirk faltered, replaced with a look of stunned surprise as his cheeks went a shade darker.
You pulled back with a coy smile, meeting his eyes for one last glance before standing up. “See you around, Nott,” you said, turning to walk away.
As you left, you made sure to add just a little extra sway to your hips, feeling his gaze practically burn into your back. When you risked a quick look over your shoulder, there he was, watching you with wide eyes and a mixture of admiration and pure disbelief.
And for once, Theo Nott was absolutely, beautifully speechless.
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symphonyofmars · 6 hours ago
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There was something I wanted to add as i saw people arguing back and forth (and this might be against my better judgement): but I believe the first post I saw referenced Bell Hooks, and then I later saw someone else say that the use of her quote was bullshit. The quote had to do with being compassionate towards men, and then the person responding said that wasn't what the quote is about (iirc, it's been a few days and my sense of time is not great) but having read The Will to Change (which I believe the quote was taken from), that's exactly what it was about.
[adding a read more because this became much longer than I intended it to be]
The book discusses how the patriarchy hurts not just women, but ALSO men, and how it's so much harder to rehabilitate men from it because: they think they stand something to gain from cramming themselves into the box they're supposed to fit into, and, many of them just have no idea that their life could even be different. That they could be an artist if they want to, they could dance if they want to, they could go into childcare if they want to or grow their hair long or write poetry or paint their nails-- that there are no "boy colors" and "girl colors", that there are no "men's jobs" and "women's jobs", that they could just do what they want because it makes them happy. They don't even know that being happy is more important than filling their sociological niche that someone else has carved out for them. It reminds me when I learned the story of Siddhartha Gautama when I was little, and that he had no idea that poverty, sickness, and suffering even existed because he had never been outside the palace walls and, not that I'm saying every man can achieve nirvana in an afternoon (or even in a lifetime), sometimes someone who knows what's outside the walls has to let you know that there is even something beyond the walls.
Which is also not to say that women need to be doing all the work for men. I spent ten years trying to disabuse a man of the "things he has to do to be manly" and it ended with him breaking up with me and joining a trad christian cult.
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Some men (like my ex) are just extremely resistant to change because change is terrifying, but they also have this sense of Sunk Cost Fallacy, where if they were doing this thing the whole time and it's not working, then what were they wasting their time on?? (I feel like you see this with a lot of evangelical/trad Christians as well, where the idea that they might have been wrong is so scary that they double down on their beliefs in the hope that it will work out for them.)
But, there are also men like a book reviewer I was watching a few days ago (whose name I don't know), who admitted that he really had no idea women were catcalled as much as we say we are, until he was grocery shopping with his girlfriend and she went into the next aisle (literally like five feet away, just with the wall of food between them) and he heard a man catcall her. Like, the second she walked away from him and she no longer obviously belonged to him (in the mind of horrible men like her catcaller) she was suddenly fair game to be harassed in public. And he said that he never didn't believe his girlfriend, but to witness something makes it so much more real. To use my "wall" metaphor another way: he and so many men are still inside the palace, experiencing what they think is the same life others experience, while women are outside of the walls, struggling. The incident of hearing his girlfriend (who is an adult women and who shouldn't need him constantly around as protection from horrible men) being treated like an object while she's by herself was like someone grabbing his hand and pulling him outside the walls without even asking if he wanted to go, showing him a truth that can only be experienced by someone who is not him.
Back to Bell Hooks because there was something I wanted to add: yes she does say that it is at least partly the job of feminists to help to deprogram men. Men, as a group, have been brainwashed to think that they have to be The Provider, The Protector, The Leader, and not all of them are good at providing, protecting, or leading. Maybe some of them want to do the things I mentioned before like care for others (in the way we would describe as "maternal" and attribute to women), maybe they want to create art or do crafts or other things not considered "traditionally masculine", and that's not even taking into account that the "traditional idea" of a man is to be constantly wanting sex, and that men could never be sexually assaulted because they're in a constant state of wanting to fuck (obviously this is a lie; anyone can be sexually assaulted, and not everyone wants to fuck). You can't just take a dog who was taught only to fight and put it in a house of children, it won't know how to act around them and might attack them: it needs to be rehabilitated first.
And Bell Hooks does note, that the problem with trying to deprogram men comes from how they're raised. I'd like to submit this video about men and empathy, since I've already typed a bunch:
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When I was reading The Will To Change and I got up to the part about her dad, I realized how different my dad is. And, because you don't get to choose your parents, I consider myself very lucky that my dad has always been unconditional in his love. For a moment I almost found this strange because his older brother was the "golden child" and his younger brother was "the baby", so he should have been somewhat neglected because they always got more affection from their parents, but I think it's because he was the favorite of his four girl cousins who would take him everywhere and fight over him (even now, he's the one they're excited to see and they shittalk the other two lol). So, I have a sneaking suspicion that the only reason he didn't end up shitty like his brothers, is because when he was a child he had four girls who were showing him what unconditional love was like and that you don't need to meet the criteria of your niche in order to receive love.
Which, I have to thank them for, because it's so much easier not having to decide whether or not I want to talk to my own parents as an adult because they've gone Fox News Insane. Both my parents will actually ask me about things they don't understand - like trans rights, queer rights in general, voting (I made them a paper of who/what to vote for for the election since the props always need extra research), geopolitical things - and I've even caught my dad making fun of conspiracy theorists and the thinking that trans women are ruining sports (he's a big sports guy and he mostly watches women's bball because he likes that they actually have to play as a team in a team sport). Life is a lot easier when both parents have empathy and don't have to be convinced to care about others.
And I think that's why the OG post I saw quoted Bell Hooks, because the "we need to rehabilitate men otherwise we can't have the feminist future we want" contingent of feminism never really took off; there was one-- I believe they were originally called "Meninists" as in "men who are feminists" and I've seen a picture of them from a parade in the 70s, but it died out because they were fighting such an uphill battle trying to convince other men to join. So now, we have more women who are independent and who have de-centered men from their lives, but also a bunch of men who were never rehabbed and who don't know their life doesn't need to revolve around "being a man." Being a man means being strong, it means being able to provide, it means being attractive; and the Tates and Fresh and Fits and all the other scam artists of the world sell them this on steroids: buy my book and you WILL be hot, you WILL be a millionaire, you WILL have women who want to fuck you...
Never mind that those guys are probably on actual steroids, they only have that money from scamming other men, and many of them have been found to hire escorts (which, there's nothing wrong with hiring sex workers, but there's a difference between selling the idea that you'll be so charismatic that women will throw themselves at you and having to hire a sex worker because your personality is so bad that no one wants to go near you.)
They're selling a false ideal to men who don't even know it's false in the first place.
But going back to Ms Hooks again: she did talk a great deal about how we need to raise our boys (as a society). She talks about how the whole thing of telling a nine-year old "Take care of your mother" is an insane notion, because he's nine and he can't do anything, and she's an adult woman who is actually the caretaker; and about how boy babies are treated so differently even to the point of "baby boys should not cry as much as baby girls". Like, the gender requirements are there before they can even talk, no wonder they're so damaged and hard to convince of anything later in life.
Reads with Rachel and her husband, Carlos, had two really good discussions about masculinity; one about real masculinity vs performed masculinity as they compared two books about being a man:
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As Rachel says after Carlos complained about being made fun of for cleaning his nails after working on his car ("I work an office job and I have cleanliness standards"): "It's not enough for you to know how to work on a car, you also have to be dirty in order to be the manliest man."
The other is in the context of talking about how Patrick Rothfuss isn't the feminist he thinks he is because he still wants the women around him to perform femininity so he can perform masculinity and feel like "a big strong man" before going into a general discussion about masculinity (from about 9:01 to 53:55):
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Together they ask a really good question (pardon me if I don't remember it verbatim): "Why does it take someone acting in a particular role for you to feel like a man?" And it's easier for Carlos to be able to deal with that question, because he started deconstructing from the patriarchy when he was 25 (he said he's 32 at the time of that video). It's something he and Rachel have done together as they learn and grow and live their lives together, him deconstructing from the patriarchy and her deconstructing from her fundamentalist christian upbringing (which is basically just The Patriarchy, but More, and +God.) And they've done this because they came to realize their upbringing was wrong, and they didn't want to raise their sons to be saddled with the same baggage that they both grew up with that made their lives worse.
So yeah, I forgot where I was going with this anymore since finding the one video took so long. The majority of men are resistant to changing their mind and it's because they were raised to be unemotional and not care about others but, sometimes, if maybe you've been friends with someone a while and take the time to explain something in a way they understand, you can change someone's mind. Story time:
I was a mod for a streamer for about a month and a half roundabouts January to February of this year (I ended up leaving because trying to get a bunch of randos to behave was stressful - esp since the streamer's rules weren't clear - and I ended up not really liking the streamer as a person). One person in the discord said that they hated the phrase "It's not my job to educate you" because it was condescending. I defended it as people being tired of having to explain shit to people just because they're black or trans or a woman but a bunch of people latched on and started saying anti-left things, which was weird because the streamer and his discord were supposed to be leftist (it's part of why I left, he was just weirdly antagonistic towards leftist ideals despite calling himself a leftist and he was attracting some *ahem* weird types). Anyway, a day goes by and a trans person comes in and says something like "I don't think I should have to explain my existence to random people on the street just because I decided to go outside," and a bunch of people descended on them, telling them they were wrong, and I'm pretty sure they ended up leaving the server.
[Like, the original group-agreed-upon argument came down to "I shouldn't have to google things or look up books to read or do my own work to discover anything new about the world, I should be able to demand of a random person's time and energy, even though I'm not giving off the vibe of someone who is actually ready to listen" and when I pointed out that people know when someone is and is not ready to listen, the streamer himself asked me how I knew and I was like like "do you think that I, a woman in her 30s, is somehow incapable of being able to discern intent?" Most women and queer folk KNOW who's a bad actor before they open their mouth, the idea that any of us wouldn't was just wildly ignorant.]
I complained to my friend (who I had met in the server) that the streamer was wrong and everyone's reaction was bullshit and, at first, he agreed with the position that a trans person should be prepared to debate people on their own rights if they deign to step outside their home. I countered with "You know, [streamer] doesn't it get it because he's a straight white man. He's the default. Other straight white men already know what it's like to be a straight white man so they have no questions for him. But to be trans or otherwise queer or a woman or any other person outside of a white man, is to have people question whether you have a right to be where you are. Trans women I've known have told me that they've had complete randos ask them if they've had bottom surgery and just-- how is that their business? People act so invasive towards non-straight non-white non-men in a way that no one does towards straight white men that they literally just can't understand what it's like to have your existence questioned just because you went outside. Asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is LITERALLY sexual harassment, and no one would ever walk up to someone like [streamer] and ask him like, "How big is your dick?" or something of a similar nature because that's just insane behavior, but when it's a trans person or a woman, it's suddenly okay? Like why do you think that is?" And my comparison to how white men are treated vs everyone else, and my stance that asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is sexual harassment (it is, no one needs to know about your genitalia) got through to him and he agreed with me. Awhile later I even heard him saying something similar to someone else about a situation that was similar and taking up the stance that I had given him.
So like... yeah, I probably wouldn't do that for a random man on the internet who is determined to hate me, but I can do it for a friend who I know might be receptive to what I have to say to him, and help steer him away from opinions that could end up dragging him down the wrong path.
As this post's OP said: "it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it!"
It's up to you if you want to try effecting the people around you, but if they've dug in their heels that much then it's okay if you want to leave and not speak to them again. Just know that, it's only so hard for you because they were brainwashed since birth to think the way they think and that's REALLY hard to undo. And that's not a pass, that's just the reason why this is so fucking hard for the rest of us (when they're adults and harder to reason with because they're so invested) and also, the reason why mothers of sons need to maybe rethink how they're raising them. Like, don't raise them with "boy colors" and "girl colors" raise them with "colors." Dance isn't something a girl does, it's something a body does. Women don't cook because cooking is a woman's thing, people cook because they want to eat. And... I'll be honest, I've known a few women who are just so mean to their husbands in a "why can't you be a real man?" way, and I just DON'T see how that makes him want to be a better person, but then again, those woman probably need as much deprogramming as their husbands do since they just keep reinforcing something that (she may not even be aware) is hurting them both.
So yeah, sorry if this was a bit rambling, but seeing people fight back and forth for the past week and seeing people take up some really... Mad Max-ian, like, ultra-anarcho-capitalist positions of "we shouldn't help any man at all, fuck em!" was really weird when it was being said by people who purport themselves as being feminists when feminist ethics is supposed to be more compassionate. There were just a handful of reactions I saw that seemed very "pull yourself up out of the patriarchy by your bootstraps" but like... what if their boots don't have bootstraps? What if they don't even have shoes on? What if they don't even know they could have shoes?
posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.
those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.
radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.
ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!
"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.
it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?
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stagefoureddiediaz · 5 hours ago
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Thought I’d show you how I’ve been going about my digital drawings - I just discovered that you can video procreate - so maybe I’ll do one of those in the future, but for the Ryan and Oliver digital drawings I did, I can show you my layers and how I worked because I was taking screenshots of my progress!!!
First up Oliver
So original photo
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my line sketch - with colour coding as it was easier to do it this way!
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Background done
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colour blocking - ngl I actually really like it when it looked like this it just tickles the right part of my brain!
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Now all the colours are sudged together and I've added in some of the texture
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Finished piece!
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Now onto Ryan!
Original Photo
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Line drawing - he looks like a sailor because I went a bit ott with lining in the beard!
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Background and clothes done!
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Working on the skin - the neck was actually a real challenge!
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Arm and ear finished
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Face in progress - he looks so creepy without eyes and I spent soooo long on his lips - I think I erased them like 4 times - but it was worth it because I am soo happy with how they turned out!
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one eye in progress
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Then I was annoyed with eyes so I did some of his hair before going back to his second eye!
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Final piece
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and there you have it - me with zero procreate or digital drawing experience having a mess around with the brushes and seeing what I could actually do and I'm obsessed with how they both turned out!
I've been doing some tutorials on procreate - so hopefully I'll get better now I"m learning how to alter the brushes and things!
Hope you enjoyed this little look at how I created my two pieces - I'm going to look at getting prints done (when I have the actual time to do the research!) so if anyone would be interested in prints please let me know in the comments and I'll let you know once I have everything sorted out!
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spidybaby · 12 hours ago
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Seat 332
Summary: The seat he always reserved for you, it's now hers.
Warnings: cursing.
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You hug Aurora as the two of you jump happy.
"I'm so happy." Aurora says, tearing up a little bit. "I'm sorry, I need a moment." She says, walking out of the room.
You turn to face Gavi. He has the biggest smile anyone could ever have. He opens his arms, walking over to you.
You carefully hug him, head between his neck and shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, Pablito." You say.
He tightens the hug, kissing your forehead. "I'm happy too." He says. "I can't wait to be on the field again."
Gavi got the green light to start training on the training camp, not like the others, but finally, he's able to run, to juggle the ball, to be out.
"And maybe I'll be able to play against Sevilla." He smiles, a smile that might hurt later. "I can't wait."
You separate from the hug, grabbing his cheeks. "I'm going to be there for you, I'll be the loudest on the stadium when I cheer your name." You smile at him.
He moves his hand and places it on the back of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss. You don't waste one second and return the action.
"I kinda like having my own cheerleader." He smirks. Giving you another peck.
You laugh at his tone, grabbing his hand, walking with him to the living room. His parents and Aurora have smiles and tears.
Finally, after so long and after everything Gavi went through, he was able to go back to the field and do what he loved the most, play.
"We are so happy, mijo." Belen says, hugging him. "You are going back to play."
His father joins the hug. They were telling him how happy they were about his return, even when it was just to training.
It was a big step for everybody. After the times when Pablo didn't want to see anyone and used to cry himself out of the frustration of being in bed while his friends played. Horribly but played. (Don't fight me on this, last season was bad)
His family was grateful for your support to Pablo. You have known him since school, and your support was very important to him and to them.
You and pablo were friends, even when you looked like the typical couple. You never officially become anything other than his friend, and tell people that you were fine like that.
"Let's go out to eat." Pablo Sr. says. "We need to celebrate this big moment."
Pablo pulls you to the front door, intertwining your hands. Pablo asked you what you are eating. Naming you different things off the menu.
"I want a piece of cake." He says, opening the door for you. "Want to share?" He asks, passing his arm around your shoulders.
You nod to him, giving him a kiss. You were careful with the picture and places. You know that since you two aren't labeled, you don't want to deal with the fans.
You were fine letting people think you were Aurora's friend. You were thankful to have some pictures with them from when you were kids.
Fans have seen that and thought nothing of it. So they didn't really care when you were with Aurora at the games.
"We are going to Sevilla this weekend." Pablo says. "Want to join us?"
You shake your head no. "I have a lot of work to do." You explain.
He rests his head on your shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." He says, sighing.
Gavi's parents ask you about college. They were happy that it was going well for you. You wanted to be a physiotherapist.
They wanted you to succeed. They have known you since you were a child, and when you went out of your way to help Pablo during his recovery. They got closer to you and got to know you better.
You became closer to him because you two met up at a common friend birthday party. You told him that you moved to Barcelona to study.
He contacted you over Instagram. You two began talking, and then he invited you to a game. You, as a cule, said yes immediately.
Since then, you got closer and started a small fling. You never cared that it was an in and out situation. He was an old friend and he liked you.
Pablo and you excuse yourselves. He has training in the morning, and you were going to help him with his therapy routine.
"Do you want me to help you with your exercise?" You ask, checking on him as he does what his physio instructed him.
He shakes his head no, trying to act tough and uninterested. "I'm almost done." He says.
You enjoy the show he's pulling. His face went from normal to a red one as he refused to ask for help. All that only to look cool for you.
You can't help but laugh at how his arms are shaking thanks to the effort he is putting into the exercise.
"Pablo, let me help you." You say, getting up and walking up to him. Grabbing the weight he's using. "Let's do it together." You say, kissing his temple.
You work out with him. Doing it slowly and helping him take the proper rest in between sets.
"You see?" You ask him. Leaving the weight on the floor. "A little help won't hurt you."
He chuckles, giving you a kiss. "Want to shower with me?" He asks, hiding his sweaty face on your neck.
You nod, grabbing his hand and walking upstairs with him.
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yourusername ♥️💙
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aurorapaezg preciosa ♥️
yourusername te quiero 🤍
pablogavi 🙄🙄🙄
yourusername 🤨?
"Have you noticed that we are always placed in the same seats?" Aurora asks, walking with you around the now empty stadium.
"We do?" You ask, confused. "How do you know that?"
"I was checking the seating on the last few games. Don't ask me why cause I just did it out of boredom."
You turn, looking at where the seats are located. "Never noticed that. We can ask Pablo why is that."
"Ask me what?" Pablo says. He was behind you.
He grabs your arm, pulling you against his chest. You laugh at his roughness. "Pablo!" You say in between giggles.
"Pablo, careful." Aurora warns him.
Pablo shush Aurora, giving you a kiss. You feel him wrapping his arms around you. "What do you wanna ask me, guapa?" He whispers to you before returning to kissing you.
You separate. "I don't even remember anymore." You say, making him chuckle. "Ready to go?" You ask, making him nod.
You were taking them to the airport after the game. Even when he isn't ready to play, he wants you at the games.
He says that it's for you and his family to get used to him playing again. You love it when he includes you into his plans.
"Let's go, lovebirds." Aurora says, walking away from you. "We don't want to hit traffic."
You walk to the car, thanks to the wait in the stadium, there was not much traffic. You needed to pick something at Gavi's house before the airport.
"I'll be quick." Aurora says, running to the house.
Gavi was singing some song he had on the playlist of his recovery. He was focused on his phone.
You then remember what Aurora told you about the seats. You want to ask him, so you turn the music down.
"I just remembered what I wanted to ask you." You tell him, bomping his nose with your finger.
"A ver, dime."
"Aurora pointed out that we always sit in the same seats." You explain. "Why is that?" You ask.
He smiles, getting closer to you and giving you a small kiss. "I memorized where the seat was." He explains. His fingers combing your hair. "That way, when I scored, I know where to look. I know that you'll be there."
You can't help the big smile that you have. He was looking for you after every goal. After every asist, he knows where to look to find you.
"Seat 332" He says. "That's the one I always ask for."
You were about to say something, but Aurora joined the two of you in the car. She apologizes for the inconvenience of having to stop at Pablo's house for her makeup bag.
"Let's go!" She says happy. "I can't wait to be home."
You smile, happy that they got to go home. The rest of the drive consists of Pablo singing every song that plays and Aurora asking you to change the song because Pablo was ruing it.
When you got to the airport, Gavi helped his sister with the luggage. Telling her that he will carry them for her.
"I'll call you when I'm back." He says, putting his head inside the car. "A kiss goodbye?" He makes duck lips.
You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Have fun, bye."
pablogavi added to closefriends
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You liked Gavi's story. Answering his dm. He let you know that he was still in Sevilla and that he was having fun.
You forgot to answer him. You were busy with some paperwork you were procrastinating. You needed to finish if you want to see him after he come back from Sevilla.
You tell him that you will be out of the radar for a few days, and when he comes back you will text him when you are free.
You spend your days working and going to uni. You had to study hard if you want to pass with a good grade.
Aurora told you that she gave your greetings to your abuelita and that she sent you something with Pablo.
You thank her and tell her that you'll talk to Pablo to get whatever she sent you. Going back to the books and the studying.
You spend more than you should without reporting you. Gavi went missing in action, too.
You didn't even notice, your phone was running in low battery from all the working and studying you are doing.
You were going back to your place, happy that you finally get to relax and to be free from all the books, all the papers and all the sleepless nights.
You find a very known car parked in front of your house. You get down of your own car, passing beside it like you didn't know.
"Hello, señorita." Gavi says, smiling with such pride. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."
"Oh, hi Mister." You follow his act. "Can you describe this person to me?"
"She's pretty." He began, taking his glasses. "Very pretty. She's a very smart girl, with beautiful hair and a very pretty shiny eyes."
You blush with his words. You love it when Gavi talks about you like that. It makes you feel some type of way.
"I might know her." You answer shyly.
He laughs at your red cheeks. He exits his car, walking over to you and hugging you. "I missed you." He whispers in your ear. Leaving a kiss there.
"I missed you too," you say to him. "Let's get inside. It's really hot." You wave air with your hand.
You grab his hand and open your door. You noticed he has something in his hands. You look at him with a doubtful expression.
"Your abu sends you this." He hands you the bag. "She mentioned to me that you need to open it and try it."
You thank him for bringing you what your grandma sent you. You even thank him for going to see her and spend time with her.
You spend the rest of the day with him, cuddle on the couch, and watch his favorite movies. He was telling you about his family reunion, his trips around Sevilla. Everything.
"What if we go out to eat?" He asks, kissing your hair. "I know I shouldn't break the diet, but I just want to go out with you."
You nod, kissing him and going to freshen up. You fix your hair and brush your teeth. Apply more lip oil and reapply perfume.
He drives to your favorite restaurant, he asks for a corner table, not wanting to he spotted or bother when he's with you.
You tell him about your last few days, how stressed you were, and why you didn't answer any of his texts.
He loves hearing you talk about your day, even when it was just a ramble of two things or about the same thing over and over but in different situations.
"Do you want dessert?" He asks.
You shake your head no. You want to even unbutton your jeans because of how full you feel. Even breathing makes you feel fuller.
"Then let me pay, and we are on our way." He says, calling the waitress to pay.
You two walk out of the restaurant. Gavi has a hoodie that he had in his car. He asks you if you want to walk around, you say yes.
"Mom says that when she's back, she will teach you how to make that cake you loved." He smiles, hugging you by the waist. "That way, when you learn how to make it, you can make it for me."
"I will make it for you whenever you want to." You kiss his cheek. "Stay with me tonight, yes?"
He nods, tightening the grip he has on you. You two pass a man selling single roses. Gavi bought one for you. Handing it to you and stealing a quick kiss.
yourusername has added to closefriends.
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"Do you want to go out tonight?" Alexa, your friend, asks you.
"I can't. Have something to do." You lie.
That thing you had to do was Pablo coming over to stay inside with you. He called you earlier and asked you to be home.
He was getting food for the two of you and wanted to see this new movie that he was too busy to see.
"Okay then." She shrugged. "If you change your mind, we are going to be at La Bodega. Text me." You nod, saying goodbye.
You drive home, listening to your shared playlist that Gavi created for you. That way, when you were together, the songs you liked were going to mix.
As soon as you get home, you clean the small mess you have in the living room. You take a shower to erase the sweat from the weather.
You decide to watch your show while you wait. Making time for Gavi to get out of whatever he's doing.
After a few episodes, you realize that Pablo was later than what he usually is. You check your phone to see if he texted you or something.
Nothing.
You sent him a text asking if he was okay. You want to make sure that it was just him being late, or maybe he got caught up doing something else.
After the first five minutes, you thought < maybe he's busy >
After ten, you started to worry. < what if during recovery, he hurt himself? >
After more than an hour, you decide to call him. The beeping of the line and the authorized voice of his voice mail made you even more worried.
You tried again. Nothing.
You calm yourself, maybe he got busy with something and couldn't come. Maybe he's in a meeting and you were interrupting.
You continue watching your show, trying to leave the worry away. He was fine. He has to be.
You get up and prepare yourself some instant Ramen. Your plans of waiting for Pablo are now long forgotten.
You didn't understand, but you didn't make it bigger. Two missed calls and a few unread texts were everything you did, and it was enough.
At one time, you turn your tv off. Walking to your room and getting into bed. You check your phone one last time, confirming that Pablo read your texts but didn't answer them.
He was going to explain himself later. It was all okay.
But... was it?
Pablo took not one day or maybe two. It took him five days before he showed up at your door.
You might think that after the texts, the missed calls, after you basically were dead worried about him.He was going to explain himself.
Thar he was going to give you the resume of what happened for him to be ignoring you like that.
But no, Pablo didn't do that.
He even asked you why you were blowing up his phone. HE was confused.
"Gavi, you told me you were coming and when you didn't. I got worried." You tell him, sitting next to him on the coach. "I even thought that maybe something happened to you during recovery."
He opens his eyes. "No, don't say that." He chuckles. "God, no."
"Then what happened?" You ask, hand on his cheek. "Tell me."
He thinks for a while, not sure what to tell you to calm you down.
"Aurora and Javi got into a fight." He says. "And I needed to be there for her. You understand that my sister was in distress and I wasn't going to leave her alone. I'm sorry I got busy, I really am."
You calm down, believing his dumb story. "No, you did the right thing." You say, caressing his skin. "I just got worried, that's all."
He pushed your head towards him. Giving you a kiss. "I'll make it up." He smiles, not worried Bout a single thing. "Now, why don't we watch that movie I told you about?" He asks, kissing you again.
You nod, letting the whole thing slide.
Oh boy, you were wrong for that.
After letting Pablo get away with that, he started to act differently. You blame it on him being stressed about the Sevilla game. Maybe he wanted to train extra hard and be prepared for anything.
You call him out for that. He apologized and invited you out. Insisting on going to dinner as a way for him to apologize.
He asked you to meet there since he was going straight up after training. He told you that the Mister decided for training to be in the evening.
You got yourself ready. Got your makeup on, your pretty hair well done. You got your nice perfume on.
All of that for him to be more than an hour late.
"Hey!" You say calling the waitress attention. "Can I get the check?"
She takes a look at your table, the empty bottle of soda, and your sad look was enough for her to feel bad.
"It's okay." She smiles. "It's on the house."
You thank her, already feeling too embarrassed to fight her for the check. You left some money for her, as a thank you.
You drive home, mad that you let this happen. You were expecting more from him, only to be let down by your own expectations.
You log into social media, trying to forget about your anger at him, only to find out a picture of him from only like thirty minutes ago.
gavirafan06
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gavirafan06 Gavi with a fan tonight.
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ferminxgavi wait is that the girl they are talking about on twitter?
gavirafan06 apparently they were out with his sister and his mom 🤔
masialover10 they say her user is @/antogmz but her account is private tho
He was out with someone else, and his mom and sister were with him.
You were waiting for him, and he didn't even have the decency of calling you and canceled the date.
You throw your phone to the bed. Went to the bathroom and did your skincare. You feel down, Gavi wasn't like that. Not with you.
You give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was a fan who was casually in the back or someone else.
You don't want to make assumptions. You want him to explain himself. Even when you already decided that he was innocent.
Aurora called you the next day. Asking you if you wanted to go out and have some lunch together. You agreed to meet her.
She asked you to pick her up, thing that you agree with, too. You got ready and drove to her brother's house.
You want to talk with Gavi, ask him why he didn't showed up, but you don't want to look pushy or like a bother.
You ring the doorbell. After a few seconds, you are greeted by Belen. She got happy to see you, hugging you and pulling you inside the house.
You make small talk with her, she mentioned how much she wants you to come over so you can learn those food recepies you always ask her.
"I promise that I'll make time to come sometime around this week." You say, waving goodbye at her.
Aurora and you walk out. She was happy to see you and be able to talk to you. You were happy too, she was an amazing friend to you.
"Are you coming tonight?" She asks casually.
You look at her, confused about what she's talking about.
"What's tonight?" You ask. "I've been busy, and I've been forgetting things, sorry." You say, pretending to understand what she meant.
"Pablo is hosting a barbecue. His friends from Sevilla are in town, and he wants to celebrate with them." She exolains to you. "You remember now?" She laughs.
You nod, smiling at her. You feel your stomach turning. Gavi got the friends you two have in common, invited them, and left you out.
"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" You ask her.
"You just did." She jokes, making you roll your eyes as you chuckle. "Go on, ask me."
"But, promise me you'll be honest with me." You say, frown in your face.
She stops eating to look at you with a serious face. "Of course. What is going on?"
You think the question a few moments. You don't know how to deliver it and make it sound like a doubt, and not like a desperate thing.
"Is Gavi seeing anyone?" You finally ask.
She starts coughing. Lifting her hand for you to give her a moment. "Sorry, I ate too quickly." She lies.
You hand her the glass of water, trying to help her pass the food. "You okay?"
She nods, gaining composure. "Sorry, yes. I am." She says, drinking water. "Why are you asking me that?" She asks back.
You shrug. "He's been kind of ghosting me." You explain. "And I don't want to hurt myself and think that maybe what we have is going to work and then find out that he is seeing someone else."
She softened the expression on her face. "Y/n." She sighs. "Pablo likes you more than he cares to confess." She says, grabbing your hand. "Believe me when I tell you that he only thinks about you."
You smile at her. Happy with her answer.
"He's been busy." She excuses him. "With all the training and him wanting to be as ready as possible for the match, I think he's been out of the blue."
You nod, understanding that he was worried about his comeback. Busy with his own life and trying to make it out as if.
"Well, I'm calmer now that you tell me that." You smile at her. "Thank you." You say, squishing her hand.
You go on with your day, the bright smile you have on your face was something nobody was taking away.
You drive Aurora home, asking her to tell her mom that yoh will be back to learn everything she wants to teach you.
You then drive back home. You need to finish some projects. You texted Gavi, letting him know that Aurora told you Bout the barbecue and asking if he needed anything.
He only texted that he would come over to talk.
You don't pay mind to that. Finishing with your homework and even using the free time to do some upcoming projects.
You don't notice the time passing by, until someone knocks on your door. You check the time. It was 5 pm.
"Hola," you smile at Gavi. Moving to the side to let him in. "Before you say anything, Aurora already told me that you've been busy and very tired and I totally understand why you forgot about dinner."
He frowns, not even understanding what you meant by that. "Okay." He says, shrugging. "Talking about Aurora, you told me she invited you over tonight?" He asks.
You nod happy. "She did. That's why I was asking if you needed me to bring something."
He scratches the back of his neck. Trying to find a way to say what he was about to say.
"Are you oka-" You were asking, until you got interrupted by him.
"You can't come." He says. The serious tone of his voice makes you shiver.
You frown. Looking at him not understanding.
"What?"
He sighs. "You are not invited." He says, looking annoyed. "Aurora wasn't supposed to invite you, and frankly, I don't want you there."
You feel the knife stabbing you in the heart. He didn't want you there. You stayed silent for a few minutes.
He's trying to read your blank expression, but he can't.
Your vision becomes blurry. "Oh." You whisper. "Okay."
He feels bad about hurting your feelings.
"Y/n, list-"
"You should go." You interrupt him. "It's getting late, and you'll have people over." You say, walking to the kitchen.
You don't want him to see you cry, but you can't help the sob that scapes your lips. That makes him feel even worse.
"Preciosa, listen." He tries one more time.
"No, Pablo." You turn around mad. "You need to leave." You say, stern tone. "Now!"
You clean your tears. You refuse to cry in front of him. You don't want to show him how much this situation is affecting you.
"Why are you so mad?" He asks, exasperated. "You act as if you are my fucking girlfriend." He shouts.
You pass from the sadness to anger in one sentence. Your fight mode activates.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, trying to hide the angry sob that scapes your lips. "I'm sorry that I act as if I'm someone you treat me like. I'm sorry I'm crying because I genuinely thought that you cared about me, and now I'm realizing that you don't. "
He rolls his eyes. That only makes you feel so much fury.
"I do care about you." He says. "But fuck, I never told you we were a thing. You assumed things up, and now you are blaming me for it."
You let out a laugh. "I assumed?" You ask. "I assumed things up when you called me all those nicknames? Huh?" You start pointing out. "I assumed things up when you held my hand, kissed my lips, slept over in my bed? Huh?"
He's silent, knowing that there's no going back from here. "Liste-"
"No!" You shout. "Did I assumed things up when you were fucking me?" You ask, the bitter tone is evident. "I gave you everything, Pablo. And you can't even give me a decent excuse. Are you really blaming me?"
"Did I asked you to give me all that?" He asks.
That simple question makes you understand everything. Your energy got all down. You don't even want to keep talking.
"You are right." You nod. "You can leave now, message received."
He stops the hard frown that's on his face. He softens his look. What he just did was not what he wanted to happen.
He wanted for you to understand that he never wanted something serious, but he let it go for more than he should.
And even when he does like you, he can't be with you like he wants to. He needs to keep his distance, and you are making things more difficult than it should be.
"Go, please." You beg, trying to hold the tears. "Enjoy your party, and I hope you enjoy playing again."
You walk away from him. If he wanted to stand there, you weren't going to see it. You slam the door of your room.
You place a pillow on your face, yelling the frustration on it. Shutting the scream that your heart was letting out.
Gavi left, slamming the door on his way out. He cursed everything that was on his view radar. Blaming himself and his stupid boy mind. But not enough for him to turn around and do the right thing.
You cry into your pillow. You are hurt and confused about why he was acting like that.
He wasn't your Pablo, the one who brings you flowers just because.
He wasn't your Pablo, the one who takes you out on dates and walks after training because he misses you. Even when he saw you before training.
He wasn't your Pablo.
But not even Pablo was your Pablo.
You feel tired and falling asleep during the crying process.
When you woke up with a headache and puffy red eyes, you know it wasn't a dream. Gavi just told you that he doesn't see you the way you see him.
You got up, walked to your bathroom, and washed your face. You shrugged and decided to take a shower.
Your day began good, you even had some fun time with Aurora. Who would've thought that I was going to be the last time you did that.
You slowly do your night routine, trying to feel better. As if that's what you need. You order take out and decide to eat it while watching your show.
When you get tired, you open your Instagram. The first post is a story Gavi posted. You click on it and enter his profile, unfollowing him.
You think for a second. Angerly deciding that you were not only going to do that but also blocking him in the process.
You went then to your feed, refreshing it after a while. It didn't have anything good for you to engage.
You move to Twitter. The first thing you find is a tweet about this girl named Antonella. She apparently was Gavi's new fling.
You read through the tweets, finding out that she was the girl that the Instagram comments were talking about.
You read that someone mentioned her Instagram account. Deciding that it wasn't enough pain for one day, you went back to Instagram. Searching her.
You click her profile, noticing something very interesting. She follows you. You clicked on "follow back" requesting to follow her.
You don't have to wait that long after she accepts your follow request. You go straight to her posts, stalking her like a crazy fan.
You find something very interesting. Gavi liked and commented on her posts. But that didn't really surprised you.
It was Aurora's likes and comments on her page. Commenting like she knew her from all her life. You were closed to the two of them, and you can't remember anyone with that name or that looks.
You click on her story, only to find out why Gavi didn't want you at his barbecue.
antogmz has added to her story
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You know Pablo a little too much to recognize him. And even if you have a little doubt about it, the background gives you all the answers.
He was at his house. He threw a party with all the friends you thought you two shared. But they aren't your friends if they know he's with someone else and decide to hide it from you.
You block your screen. Tired of going out of your way to make Gavi someone so on top of everything. You can't keep putting him before you. Not anymore.
What hurt you the most was that Aurora knew about it.
You can't blame her for siding with Gavi. She's his sister, so it was obvious that she was going to prioritize him over you.
But when you asked her if Pablo was seeing someone else, she denied it. Telling you that he likes you and that he only thinks about you.
She lied to you, giving you fake expectations.
You blink the tears away. You don't want to cry. You already feel dumb enough to keep humiliating yourself for him.
After a while, you open your phone again, you don't want to think about him. You start to see the insta stories of your friends.
That's when you see the one from Aurora.
aurorapaezg has added to her closefriends.
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You see the tags on her story. It was everyone. The only one who wasn't invited was you. And you can't get mad, the sadness overpowering every feeling.
You tried to distract yourself, checking your feed again to see what's happening. Maybe finding a funny video or something. But no.
You click on that one picture even when you know it was going to hurt.
gavixpedri
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Liked by 2,284 others
gavixpedri New picture of Gavi and his alleged girlfriend @antogmz in his Barcelona home.
There's rumors that she's going to be at the game against Sevilla. If that's true, then this will confirm their relationship.
Gavi and Anto have been linked up since a few weeks ago. People from Sevilla mentioned that he was seen with her on different occasions.
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gavilover9 I thought aurora's friend was his girlfriend
gavixpedri No 😭 she's only a friend after all
barcamessi10 this is the hardest launch I've ever experienced 😭😭😭 he was in recovery a few weeks ago and now he has a girlfriend
gavixpedri I knowwww 😔 we missed a lot of chapters. I stayed at the one where Y/n and him were allegedly a thing 😭
This was from the same night that he left you waiting on the restaurant. He was with her.
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You try to stay as low profile as you could. Gavi tried to contact you over text and tried calling. You left all his messages go to voice mail and made sure to mark as read all his texts.
You were coming back from Uni when you found that particular car parked in front of your house. You take your keys out, walking without stopping.
You were about to walk inside your house when you felt an arm pulling you away from the door.
"Just give me five minutes." He begged.
"No!" You say, stern tone. "Let go off me." You order him.
"Four?"
"Let go off me, Pablo." You say again.
"Only one, please. I'm begging you." He beggs.
Those stupid puppy eyes he has are making the devils work. You can't say no to that, and he knows it.
"I'm counting, so you better start talking." You say, lifting your arm to see your watch.
He let go of your arm. "I'm fucking sorry I ever spoke to you in that way." He says, words coming out of his mouth as if he was rapping some Eminem song. "You are someone I find really important to me, and if I ever gave you the impression of liking you is because I really do. I just don't want to hurt you." He pauses to take a break.
You pull your arm down. "Ironic, cause you did hurt me." You say, trying not to sound so harsh.
"And I really regret everything. You are my friend and I shouldn't have played you like I did. I really want you back in my life. I just don't know how to work as a partner. That's why when you never asked me to label our relationship, I was fine with it because you were too."
"Did I ever tell you I was okay with that?" You ask, interrupting him.
He shakes his head no. "I'm sorry."
"Fine, apology accepted." You say. "Now, your time is over. Have a nice day, Pablo."
You were about to turn, but his hands stopped you. "I have this for you." He says, handing you a pass.
"What is this?" You ask confused, not taking it in your hands.
"It's a pass for tonight's match." He smiles. "I'm finally playing, and I want you there. You helped me in my recovery, and I can't thank you enough." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I know I'm an asshole, I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please, please come to the game." He says, begging again.
You look at the pass in his hand, not sure if you should take it or not.
"Please, at least take it and think about it." He says.
You nod, grabbing the pass from him. You then turn back and walk into your house. You close the door after you.
You look at the pass, it says your number and your seat. < Seat 332 >
Just like always.
You left the pass on your table. Not quite sure if you should go. What if his friends and family looked at you weirdly over you coming to his game?
You shake that idea out of your mind. Gavi's family loved you. Maybe not as his partner, but as the girl who helped him during his worse times.
And that was something nobody was taking from you. Ever.
You try to not think about the pass. You clean your house, you cooked lunch, you watch your show.
You even take a shower, something refreshing.
When you open your closet, you see the jersey. Mayne ut was a sign. Maybe you should go.
You take it as a sign for you to go. You changed into something appropriate for the game. You apply some light makeup and walk out to the stadium.
You were late, and you got into the stadium thanks to Gavi's pass. He asked beforehand for you to be allowed to get in, even if it was only a few minutes left of the game.
A security officer walks you to the vip section. You thank him for allowing you in, he just nodded and left.
You walk into the vip section. Standing over at the doors of the door that's dividing the seats from the lobby.
You noticed that Gavi was about to get subbed in. Everyone on the section was standing and clapping for him.
You can hear people chanting and screaming his name. Everyone was happy about it.
They were all too excited that people didn't really take a seat during the last eleven minutes of the game. That's all that Gavi played, including extra time.
People clapped at the fact that Barca won five to one. You can feel the tears in your eyes.
The longest eleven months of your life. At the same time, those months were short when it came to helping Pablo recover.
Pablo was looking over at the section you were in. People are still up, slowly seating down because it is the vip section. People don't just walk away.
Then the people that left are gone, and people are seated back. You were about to walk into your seat but you noticed something.
She was in your seat.
You look back at the field, finding his eyes on you. You move your eyes from him to the seat. Where she was waving her hand trying to get his attention.
You feel your vision getting blurry. Understanding that it wasn't your seat to take anymore.
It was hers.
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🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 🤍
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dolljunk · 1 day ago
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I've been rotating this tartan dress idea around in my head because I was a teen in the 2000s who thought alt fashions like this dress was really exciting and different. It kind of went dormant again until I came across Strawberry Switchblade, an 80s band that kind of reinvigorated me, since their fashion style seems to have influenced a lot of 2000s alt fashions at the time.
I'm really proud of how this dress turned out as it took a lot of gathering and lace to sew, plus I think it captures that vibe of nameless anime girls you'd see plastered on DeviantArt or MySpace, as well as suiting Stitched in Style Frankie's makeup.
I'm pretty proud of her headband as the Skullette is from a G2 accessory packaging I've held onto for something like this and reinforces my hoarder tendencies.
I'm so happy how this restyle came about and how freeing it was to just restyle a doll rather than make a doll from scratch.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 17 hours ago
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@zepskies
Oh goodness I am so excited to finally being able to read part two!
Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...
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“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.  Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?” Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.  “Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 
I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."
And oh my word the two lines from Dean when she got mad KILLED ME. The:
"What's this, some kind of Latina temper?" he asks snidely.
AND
"Oh, I'm sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?" he snarks.
I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.
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You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.  He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room. So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.  He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
Oh sweetie pie, Dean you're an idiot, but we love our little idiot even when he loses his temper because he cares so much. This part really got to me, because at first I was like "oh why would she stay with him in his room," but I get it. Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships.
Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.
Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.  Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 
Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.
His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.  And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.  “You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.  “Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 
She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.
This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 
Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀
Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless.
And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss. He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.   A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.  “I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.
And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.
ESPECIALLY THIS LINE:
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
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I don't know why that wiped me out after everything tbh.
Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 
Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊
Devour Me - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 
Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)
AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1
Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭
Word Count: 5,400
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
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Part 2: "Telenovela Style"
Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.
Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 
Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 
No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.
Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 
When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 
He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 
“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.
“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”
In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 
Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.
The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 
By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 
Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 
You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.
The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 
He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 
You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 
You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 
Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 
“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 
Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”
Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 
“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 
You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.
“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 
“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 
Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 
“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”
His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.
“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”
Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 
“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 
You truly become incensed at that. 
“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 
You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.
“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?
You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 
Dean calls your name in frustration. 
“What?” you hiss. 
The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 
You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 
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Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.
You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.
After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 
You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.
What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 
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That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 
Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 
You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 
He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.
So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 
He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.
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In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 
What the fuck?
After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 
Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.
At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.
He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.
“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 
It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 
Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 
“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 
Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”
You give him a wry look.
“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 
But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 
You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  
Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.
He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.
“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”
You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 
“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 
“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 
“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”
You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.
“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”
That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 
Dangerous, for both of us.
You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 
And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 
“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 
“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 
Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.
“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”
You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.
“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 
The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 
It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 
More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”
He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 
Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.
You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”
Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 
“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 
“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 
“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”
Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”
You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.
“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  
But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 
Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 
“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.
It’s then that you know you’ve won.
So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 
You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  
Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.
“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”
Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 
When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”
A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.
But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  
“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.
“What’s this one?” Dean asks.
“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 
This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 
“What does it mean?” he asks.
You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”
Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 
You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 
“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”
Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.
As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.
“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”
Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 
You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 
“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 
You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”
You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 
He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.
“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”
You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 
“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.
“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 
You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 
You stop him with your finger on his lips.
“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 
“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 
“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”
Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”
You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 
You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 
After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 
Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.
He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  
A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 
“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.
So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 
And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 
A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.
He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.
You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.
Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)
You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 
“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 
“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.
Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.
Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 
“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 
You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”
Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 
Oh, fuck yeah. 
A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 
Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 
Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.
Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 
So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.
And suddenly, he blinks them open again.
“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 
You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 
He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 
You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 
Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 
He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 
“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”
He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  
“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 
“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.
Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...
“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.
It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.
Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.
“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 
Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”
A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”
At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.
“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”
Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 
Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.
You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 
“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 
His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 
“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”
You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.
But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 
“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”
When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  
So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  
However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 
It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 
“Damn it, Dean!”
You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 
“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”
Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”
“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 
Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 
But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 
When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.
Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.
I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 
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AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️
Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:
(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)
[During their fight]: 
“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”
Translation:
“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”
[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 
“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”
Translation:
“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”
Keep Reading:
Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):
Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.
▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)
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brown-bi-beautiful · 24 hours ago
Text
BABY BOY
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College au
Pairing: nerd! Jungkook x fuckgirl! reader
MINORS DNI
Genre: strangers to lovers? smut, fluff, a little angst
Words: 21.4k
Summary : You are bored with all of the boys on your campus and now you want the new toy except...the new toy doesn't want you
Warnings: Jungkook hates reader at the beginning 😭😭😭, Jungkook is an asshole to her, reader and her friends are low-key mean girls, reader and her friends objectify Jungkook a lot (red flag right there), reader is kind of the s word, casual slutshaming, angst (but it's like very tolerable), SMUT [MASTURBATION (Male, ORAL REC. (Both male and female), Fingering, JUNGKOOK'S DICK NEEDS A WARNING BY ITSELF (spoiler alert: ITS BIG AND OC's OBSESSED), Protected sex (be responsible kids)], FLUFFFFFF.
A/n: OMG.... It has been a while. Honestly work was so hard this past year and on top of everything i went through a very bad break up due to which I wasn't really in the mood of writing anymore ( Also why I kinda half assed it a little, Im very sorry). But now that we are back again I really hope you enjoy it guys. It was initially going to be 30 k words but due to the above mentioned things I could only reach 21 k but I still hope I won't disappoint you guys. Anyways, happy reading.
*******
'Why did you agree to this?' you asked yourself once again as you stared at the boy sitting opposite you, nervously stumbling over his words. You looked at him with a bored expression.
Let’s make one thing clear: you have a policy of not dating. The only reason you agreed to this date was simple—who would turn down free food, right? Plus, the boy was somewhat easy on the eyes. However, after listening to him struggle to tell a story for the last half-hour, you were instantly reminded why you avoid dates altogether: they can be incredibly boring.
'Oh God, fucking and dumping is so much easier than enduring this.' You don’t even understand how they get the impression that you're looking for anything more than just sex. From the start, you’ve always been clear about your intentions—letting them know that you're only interested in a physical relationship with no strings attached. At first, they all agree, but eventually, they start pushing for more, asking for just one date, as if that would change your mind.
"Could you at least pretend to look interested?" he snaps suddenly, his irritation showing at your impolite demeanor.
"Well, I'm not."
"Then why did you say yes to this?"
"Because you were practically begging me to, and I was just feeling a bit hungry, dude," you retorted, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, it’s not you, okay? I just don’t do dates... What was your name again?"
"How could you not remember my name? We had sex this morning!" He looked hurt, but it's not your fault, you were drunk last night when you met him at the frat party.
"And did you hear me say your name once?" you asked with a raised eyebrow .
"You're a bitch." He exclaimed, getting up to rush out of the cafe.
"At least pay for the pancakes!" you called after him but he ignored you and ran away. 'What a little bitch.' You sighed throwing some bills on the table and got up to leave as well.
Let’s make one more thing clear: you loved sex. It was ironic, really, considering you were a virgin when you first started college. But after getting your heart broken by your boyfriend during the second semester, you realized the only good thing that came out of relationships with men was sex.
You have sworn off dating but that didn't mean you were going to give up on having sex too. If guys could do it without any judgment, you saw no reason why you couldn't as well. As a result, you gained a reputation as the infamous "fuckgirl" of your college.
*******
"So? I heard your recent boy toy has been telling everyone that you suck at giving head." Jimin, your best friend of 3 years said. Jimin was the only guy you have stayed friends with after having sex. Sex with Jimin was good, so good that you guys became fuck buddies for a few months in fourth sem. However you had to stop having sex when he started seeing a girl regularly and then you didn't go back even after they broke up, You both decided that you liked your dynamic better as best friends.
"As if I would let that dick anywhere near my mouth." You roll your eyes, taking a seat next to him at the far end of the classroom. It was frustrating to see guys act like this after facing rejection. "Honestly, who cares? Everyone knows that's not true." you remarked, dismissing the behavior with a hint of exasperation.
"I don't know, you were kinda awful."
"Hey, I take offence. I was the best sex you've ever had and you're a lucky bastard to even get a taste of this." You said pointing at your own body.
"I'm kidding. He's probably just salty that he wasn't the one to change you for the better and be your awakening."
After several minutes of silence, with only the voice of Mr. Aitken filling the air, you returned to the previous subject. "I don't get it, I mean what part of 'I only want to have sex' is so hard to understand?"
"I don't know, bro. You should do what I do, leave before they wake up and block them from every social media platform."
"Oh what a great person."
"Says the one that has fucked almost half the college?"
You gasped at his sudden dig and slapped his arm. "You're a bigger slut than I am, bitch. Anyways, I'm done with college boys."
"Really?"
"Yeah, they're so immature. I just want someone who would understand the depth of casual sex."
"You sure you're not only saying that because you've now slept with all the boys in our campus?"
"Shut up. My body count is still very modest. And I'm serious, I'm not sleeping with anymore college boys."
"As if on cue, Mr. Aitken's lecture was interrupted by the creaking sound of the large lecture hall door swinging open. In walked a boy with fluffy hair and clothes that seemed too big for him, drawing everyone's attention."
"I'm so sorry for interrupting you. Is this Ancient Mesopotamia with Mr. Fergus Aitken?" the boy asked in a voice so low that, if it hadn't been so silent in the class, you wouldn't have been able to hear it.
"Yes, it is. Now hurry up and take your seat; you're wasting my time," the old man grumbled, prompting the boy to rush and nervously find a place to sit. You observed him with curiosity as he settled into the only available seat, which happened to be in the third row, directly in front of you.
From the little you could see of his face, you certainly liked what you saw. He seemed younger than you, or maybe it was his clothing style and demeanor that gave off that impression. There was an aura of innocence and cuteness about him that caught your attention. If it weren't for the classroom setting, you would have already approached him.
While you had no reservations sleeping with any attractive man, Jimin always insisted that you have a type. He believed you had a soft spot for spoiling cute and innocent boys. Boys who seemed inexperienced in the field, boys you could teach, boys who looked like they've never seen pussy in their life, boys like him.
Your best friend seemed to have caught on to the expression on your face, and with a knowing smirk, he nudged you playfully.
"I thought you said you were done with college boys."
"That was before I knew someone this cute goes here. Who the hell is he?" you asked, genuinely curious about the boy who had just walked in.
"Why do you think I know everyone in this college?"
"Because you're a gossip girl."
"You don't complain when I give you the gossips."
"I'm sorry, is my lecture interrupting your conversation, Mr. Park, Ms. __?" a thickly accented voice interjected, breaking your conversation with Jimin. You glanced up and noticed that all eyes, including those of the new boy, were on you. This time, you got a full view of his face, and you were taken aback by his beauty. His big doe eyes gazed back at you, his lips set in a natural pout, and his fluffy hair, partially restrained by a black bandana, almost concealed his stunning features. To call him merely pretty would be disrespectful; he was absolutely gorgeous.
"No, sir. I was actually just clearing her doubt about King Shu-Sin." Jimin said and you nodded along.
"Well, that's unfortunate, given that topic ended last week and we're on Assyrian civilization." You fought the chuckle that almost escaped you as Jimin's face reddened in embarrassment.
"You see, I know that, but-"
"If you want to talk, just get out of my class." Mr. Aitken's stern words snapped you back to reality as he resumed his lecture. Despite the urge to leave, you knew you couldn't afford to miss any more classes, given that your attendance was already lagging behind. Moreover, there was the intrigue of the new boy who had captured your interest recently. So, you stayed put, trying to focus on the lecture, though your mind kept drifting back to the presence of the boy in front of you.
After what felt like an eternity, but was only an excruciating 40 minutes, the lecture finally came to an end. Without waiting for Jimin, you promptly stood up from your seat, excited that you finally had the opportunity to approach the boy. Your eyes scanned the room for your new object of interest. Among the sea of students, his fluffy head was not too difficult to spot as he made his way toward the exit. However, navigating through the crowd of more than 200 students, all eager to leave Mr. Aitken's apparently popular class, proved to be quite challenging and frustrating.
"Shit!" You exclaimed when you finally got out of the class but couldn't get a sight of him. 'How is he so fast?'
"You know you should start paying me for this." Came the voice of your friend from beside you as he held out your bag which you had left behind in a rush.
"Bet you've said that before."
********
"Guess who has a new crush!" Jimin exclaimed the moment both of you stepped into the café where you and your friends usually hung out. And by hung out, you meant practically lived.
"Shut up, it's not a crush," you defended yourself, settling down on the couch and playfully nudging your friend with your butt to make some space for yourself.
"Sure. It's not a crush." Jimin mocked.
"Wait, I wanna know. Who is it?" Riley exclaimed excitedly, leaving her boyfriend Hobi's lap to move closer to you, eager to hear all the details.
"It's not a crush or anything. Jimin loves to overreact. It's just this guy I noticed in class today. It was his first time with Mr. Aitken; otherwise, I think I would have noticed him before. He's just really cute, that's all."
"Wait cute as in 'charming-flirty cute' or cute as in 'you could spread him on a toast and eat' cute." Jennie chipped in on your conversation.
"Knowing her, I bet it's the latter." Said Hoseok.
"I'm not answering that." You said as the waitress, Robin, came with your usual coffee order and you thanked her with a smile.
Amidst the conversation, you couldn't help but notice that Jay, one of your friends, had been unusually quiet the whole time. Before you could ask him what happened, he got up to leave.
"I'm gonna go smoke some weed. You wanna come?" Jay asked you, and you declined with a shake of your head. As soon as he was out of earshot, your other friends burst into laughter, amused by the situation.
"Oh he wishes you'd cum."
"Guys please. He'll get over it." You defended the guy even though you were quite sure he wouldn't get over it soon.
"He better, it's getting pathetic." Said Riley.
Jay had been harboring a crush on you for over a year now. He had asked you out twice in the past month, but you turned him down, saying you don't fuck with friends.
As you engaged in another conversation, you heard the bell on the front door ring, but you didn't pay much attention to it initially—at least not until Jimin burst out with wide eyes.
"That's him, that's him. That's her new crush!" All of you turned around to see the boy standing at the café entrance, looking around with his wide doe eyes as if he were looking for someone.
You were never one to get enchanted by someone very easily. It hadn't happened even once since you got to college—at least, not until this boy. There was something about him that captivated you effortlessly.
It definitely wasn't love at first sight, though. Your experiences had taught you that you were somewhat incapable of feeling love in the traditional sense. You just couldn't. But would you admit that you were attracted to him? Yes, you were undeniably and very much attracted to him.
"Oh he's a cutie."
"Him?" You turned around at Jennie's words as she shook her head.
"You know him?" You asked.
"No I don't know him. I know of him." You felt like you've hit a jackpot. Not you'd know at least something about him when you approach him. "You can't fuck him. You know Namjoon's friend Jeon Wonwoo?"
"If by 'know' you mean 'slept with'? Then yes."
"That's Jeon Jungkook, his brother."
"No way. What?"
"Yeah, and Wonwoo hates you so much. I'm pretty sure his brother hasn't heard good things about you."
"But maybe he doesn't know her," Jimin said "Maybe Wonwoo hasn't told him about her. I mean who likes to brag about getting dumped?"
"Yeah, I'm with Jennie here," Riley said and you raised an eyebrow, "Not because he's Wonwoo's brother or something but because, look at him. He looks like you'd break him."
"No, I won't. Why do you guys always act like I'm some man-eating witch?" you retorted, feeling defensive and exasperated at your friends' judgmental reactions.
"Babe, you know that's not what she means. You know guys like him can never handle a woman who's comfortable in her sexuality." Riley nodded along at Jennie's words.
"You never know. For all we know he could be like...a freak in the sheets."
"Really? Him?" You followed Hosoek's gaze to see the boy in question sitting on a barstool and sipping on pink Boba tea. His lips made a small pout around the head of the straw.
"He's cuuute." Riley cooed.
"And you have a boyfriend." Hobi reminded her and she pecked his lips in assurance.
"You know what? Go for it," said Jennie with a smile. "Fuck Wonwoo, in fact I'll ask Namjoon some details about him." You squealed and kissed Jennie on the cheek with a big smacking sound.
******
It seemed like you were experiencing the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, because lately, Jungkook had been popping up everywhere—in your classes, at the café, and anywhere you hung out on campus. It had been over a week since you first noticed him, but you were yet to approach him. It wasn't that you were nervous or anything, no, far from it; you were just looking for a good opportunity to pounce.
He always rushed out of classes as if he had to attend to surgery or something, or he was always with his two guy friends, who looked like they'd have a seizure if they came in contact with a woman. It's not that you were nervous about asking him out in front of his friends; you just weren't sure if he wanted to be asked out in front of them.
Through Jennie (read: Namjoon), you managed to gather some information about Jungkook. He was a third-year student, majoring in chemistry, and 22 years old—he was a year younger than you and all your friends.
Right now you were fooling around with one of the boys in class at another one of your hookup spots. It was just meant to be a quick exchange of weed when Dongmin suggested you should make out since you were already in the sacred spot and you were like why not.
You and Dongmin have been hooking up for quite some time now. While you don't usually sleep with a man twice, Dongmin was quite good at what he does.
You don't realize when his hand slipped into your panties but you certainly weren't complaining.
As you were in the middle of your intense make-out sesh, a loud thud disturbed your encounter, leaving you irritated and eager to shoo away whoever had intruded. When you turned around to address the interruption, your voice caught in your throat and all the irritation left your body when you found yourself face to face with the familiar pair of wide, doe eyes.
It was none other than Jeon Jungkook, the same boy you've been trying to get alone with for the past week but had no luck. The same boy you've been lusting over just saw you with another man, his hand down your panties.
"I'm- I'm sorry... I got lost- I'll just... Leave." Jungkook hurriedly picked up his books from the ground and rushed to get out of there.
Before you knew it, you were pushing away the guy in front of you and without any explanation to him you rushed after Jungkook.
"Hey, wait," you called after him and he froze on the spot. When you finally approached him, you gave him a sweet smile.
"I-I-said I'm sorry."
"Oh no, it's ok. You just said you're lost?" Jungkook looked at you in confusion. Did you actually just leave your make out session to ask him that?
"Umm... yeah, I recently started having classes in this sector, and I was... looking for Abnormal Psych with Mr. Hastings."
"I know where that class is, come I'll walk you."
"It's not necessary," Jungkook said, looking at the ground to avoid making eye contact.
"I insist. By the way I'm," you offered him your hand which he looked at hesitantly for a few seconds but didn't shake. You were a little hurt but didn't show it in your face "And you are?"
"Jeon Jungkook." His voice was lower than expected.
"Cute name. Come on Jeon Jungkook, I'll take you to your psych class." You offered once again and started walking without waiting for his answer.
Jungkook had half a mind to escape from the situation and hide. For all he knew, you could be luring him somewhere for your friends to bully him. Here's the thing: Jungkook couldn’t be bothered enough to indulge in college drama, but he also wasn’t living under a rock to not know who you were. To say that you were infamous around the whole campus would be an understatement.
He had heard many things about you and your little group of friends—from his brother, his friends, and even strangers—and none of it was good. If so many people had the same negative opinion about you, he couldn't help but believe that there might be some truth to it.
Jungkook could never comprehend why people still engaged with you if you were such an awful person with such an unpleasant personality. Why did they give you all the attention you so clearly wanted? Why not just ignore you and go on their merry way?
When he first saw you, though, he understood why. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and you carried yourself like you knew it. With just a look at you, he could tell that you were a bad influence, and he promised himself never to associate with you or any of your friends. He believed that being drawn into your circle would only lead to trouble.
"I think I've seen you somewhere." Jungkook thought, of course you don't remember him even after crossing paths several times. He doesn't think of himself as a memorable face anyway. "Wait, do we have any classes together?"
"A couple."
"Oh, right! You're in Mr. Aitken's Mesopotamian history class, aren't you?" Jungkook simply nodded in response. You took the opportunity to prolong the conversation, purposely opting for the longer route to the psychology building.
"Yes." He mumbled, not saying a single word more than he needs to answer you.
"Hey by the way I have psych too, but its with Mrs. Fields." You said, happy to find another common ground with him. "Is psych your major?"
"No. It's Chemistry."
You attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a playful comment, saying, "You definitely look like someone who'd take chemistry." But instead of taking it lightly, Jungkook seemed a bit offended by your remark.
"What does that mean?"
"You know, you look smart," you complimented, unaware that he was misinterpreting everything. All Jungkook heard was the possible hidden meaning behind your words. You were definitely calling him a nerd. And even if you were right, you had no right to say that.
You had no idea what to make of Jungkook's expression. It was the first time you'd miserably failed at flirting with a guy. Usually, by this point in the conversation, they'd be eating out of your hand, but Jungkook looked unaffected by your charms. He was looking anywhere but at you, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
"Are you always this quiet?" You asked.
"I only talk to my friends." His answer was short and simple.
You finally reached in front of Mr. Hastings class and you suddenly felt a pang in your heart that your time was up with him.
"Here, it's your class."
Seeing the lecture hall door labeled 'GC24' and noticing the same numbers on the slip, Jungkook felt a sense of relief wash over him. He silently thanked his luck, relieved that you hadn't taken him somewhere with ill intentions to bully him, as he had initially thought.
"Thanks," Jungkook mumbled as he reached for the door handle, preparing to enter the lecture hall. Before he could step inside, your hand on his arm halted him. Your touch surprised him, and he turned to look at you with curiosity, unsure of what you might say or do next.
"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" You asked, looking up at him with a smile.
Jungkook panicked at your question. You wanted to have coffee with him? You wanted to have coffee with him? But why? Probably so that your little posse of friends can make fun of him.
"No thanks." Jungkook's rejection caught you off guard, and it was an unfamiliar feeling to be on the receiving end of such a response. Doubts crept into your mind as you wondered if he had misunderstood you or if there had been some miscommunication between you two.
"No, I'm asking you out on a date."
"I- I know," He said, "I don't want to."
Feeling beyond shock the only thing that left your mouth was "Why?"
"I don't date girls like you." And with that he quickly went inside the lecture room leaving a very shocked you outside.
*******
"Maybe he's gay," Jimin suggests passing you the rolled joint and you took it gladly. "And by 'girls like you' he meant girls in general."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure he meant girls like me. I'm sure, that idiot brother of his has said something about me." You said passing back the joint. "And now he thinks I'm a slut or something."
"I mean, where's the lie?" You could tell that Jay was pretty high right now, he only settles to throw mean comments at you when he's high. It was his own way of releasing his frustration and you never mind him.
"Shut up, Jay, before I kick you in the teeth." Jimin threatened him in your defense and you don't doubt that he would actually do it if needed.
"Babe, you have never cared what people think about you, why start now?" Jennie said as she lied down on the grass.
"I don't know, I still don't care what other people think but-"
"You know what? He was completely out of line to say that to you." Riley said and you shook your head.
"I guess if roles were reversed I wouldn't go out with me either. I don't really have the reputation of Mother Teresa on this campus."
"So what you gonna do now?"
"I say move on and fuck our TA Mark, he's like, crazy hot."
"I think I know what I'm gonna do."
*******
"The only reason I agreed to take psych was because we were taking it together. Now you want to switch to that old cranky man?" Jimin complained as you sat in the office to fill the forms to change classes.
"You are welcome to not join me."
"If you think that I can endure a lecture without you, then you're wrong."
"I know." You giggled kissing his cheek.
"Hmm 'reason', I wonder what I should write," Jimin mocked as he stared at the form and then you, "'My crazy best friend is obsessing over a nerd who clearly doesn't give two fucks about her'."
"Your crazy best friend wouldn't mind telling your hookups that you once had gonorrhea."
"I told you that in confidence." As the two of you continued to bicker you heard someone clear their throat and instantly looked up to see a woman in her late 40s, you've seen countless times but don't recall the name of.
"If you are done with the forms, you can give them to me,"
"Just a moment," you said with a smile as you proceeded to fill out the rest of the form. She shook her head as she looked you up and down, probably appalled by your scantily covered body in a lilac bralette that exposed the better part of your chest and midriff, and a white skirt so short that if you bent over, your ass could be seen. She took a few seconds to judge you and eventually returned to her desk.
"Did you sleep with her?" You asked in a hushed tone.
"What?! No, she's like... ancient."
Once you submitted the forms to Mrs.—shit, you forgot her name again—you made your way to the history building. It was almost time for Mr. Aitken's class. Although you typically wouldn't attend any class two days in a row, your newfound motivation had recently changed your mindset.
"Can we skip it today? Let's just go, smoke some weed, I got really good stuff from Taehyung."
"No, we are very behind on attendance."
"What are you talking about, we can still skip three more classes."
"No, Jimin."
"Is this about Jungkook again?" He sighed after reading your expression. "What is up with you? You've never put this much effort into fucking a guy."
"I know. He's just, interesting. And I want to put effort."
Upon entering the crowded lecture hall, almost every seat was occupied, and only a few vacant spots remained. While Jimin searched for a place to sit, your attention was captured by one person only—Jeon Jungkook—who was currently engrossed in scribbling something in his notebook. He was wearing glasses today, and it made him even more adorable than usual. All you wanted to do was drag him away from the class and kiss him.
As you heard your name being called, you turned to find a group of boys gathered around an empty seat, all of them gesturing toward it, signaling that the seat was available for you.
"Sit here, the view's perfect from here." You rolled your eyes and ignored them, walking up to the only boy you're interested in right now.
"In your dreams, Jared." You heard one of the boys say.
When you reached your destination, the entire class fell into silence, their eyes wide and curious as they watched you stand in front of Jungkook in the front row. But it seemed that Jeon Jungkook was completely absorbed in whatever he was scribbling in his notebook, paying no attention to you or the situation.
"Hey," when Jungkook lift his head to see who was talking to him his eyes widened. He was definitely not expecting to have a encounter with you two days in a row.
When you had asked Jungkook out (and he had said no), he believed that you did it merely as a joke, intending to mock him in front of your friends. What else would make someone like you ask someone like him out? You surely don't have any shortage of people falling at your feet, so that had to be the only reason why you asked him out, right?
When Jungkook rejected you, he was sure that would be the last of your encounters. He planned to make sure he never crossed your path again, which is why he deliberately sat in the front row today, knowing you and your friend always occupied the seats at the back.
Since yesterday, Jungkook couldn’t get you out of his mind. He despised you; he despised people like you—people who seemed to believe they had the authority to toy with others simply because of their popularity. On top of that, the negative things he had heard about you from his brother only added to the bad image you already had. According to everyone, you were the meanest girl in the whole college, and he just wished he could put you in your place.
He hated the way you smiled at him right now, so innocent, as if you weren’t the person people said you were. He believed your smile was fake, a mere façade to conceal your true intentions. Your ego must have been wounded by getting rejected by him of all people, and now you probably wanted revenge or something.
Undeterred by Jungkook's lack of response to your greeting, you pressed on and asked, "Is this seat taken?" You pointed to the seat beside him, even though it was clearly occupied by another girl, who looked alarmed by your question.
"Is it, sweetie?" Your next question wasn't to him but the girl, who just looked panicked and taken aback that you're even talking to her.
"N-No… You can sit here, __." The girl stammered nervously, quickly giving up her seat for you.
'Who do you think you are?' Jungkook wanted to snap at you very badly but looking at all your fans around the hall who were already glaring daggers at him, he stops himself.
"Thanks," you smiled sweetly at the girl and proceeded to sit in the seat. "Scooch," you told Jungkook, and he did so without saying anything. You then patted the seat on your other side, prompting your friend to come forward and take that seat, though not without rolling his eyes first.
As soon as you sat beside him, he caught a whiff of your scent. It was a very fruity smell, a mix of grapefruit and fresh oranges. You smelled rich, and it suited your personality very well.
Jungkook thanked the whole universe when Mr. Aitken finally walked in and started his lecture. Now he’d just have to get through this one hour somehow, by ignoring your presence. Jungkook thought you wouldn’t try to mess with him during the class, but boy, was he wrong.
"So? What happened yesterday? Why'd you run away?" You leaned closer to him and asked in a hushed tone. He tried to ignore you and moved closer to the boy next to him.
"Are you ignoring me, Jungkook?"
"Please, let me focus on the lecture." He says before noting down something in his notebook.
"Oh, look at you. You take notes, such a good boy." You giggled, and if it had been anyone else, Jungkook would admit that sound was incredibly cute. But on you, it was nothing but annoying. Once again, you were mocking him for being a nerd. "So? Did you have time to think about it? You wanna go out for coffee?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him, but it seemed to have no effect on him.
"No. Now please let me study."
"You have pretty hands," you remarked, tracing circles on the back of his palm. But Jungkook chose to ignore your comment once again. "If you don't want to get coffee, we can go to the movies or something, or do whatever you like."
"What do you want from me?" He asked, clearly annoyed by your behavior.
"I want to get to know you." Your words made him snap his head to look at you. The way you smiled at him seemed genuine, like you actually meant what you just said. Once again, Jungkook couldn't help but notice your beauty. Your lips were a shade of pink, glossy, and looked very plump. Your eyes were big and innocent, as if you hadn't broken all of those hearts. Before he could silently compliment more of your features, he suddenly remembered what Wonwoo had said to him.
"She is the meanest girl in this college, Guk. You don't want to associate with the likes of her. She and her friends bully people to have fun."
"I don't want to do anything."
"Why?"
"I just don't."
For a second, you looked truly hurt by Jungkook, and he realized he didn’t like that look on your face for some reason.
"If you don't want to go on a date, we can just hang out here on campus," you suggested again. This time, instead of saying anything, Jungkook just sat there silently.
You didn’t look away, though. Your eyes were fixed on him with that pretty little smile on your face, and Jungkook started feeling self-conscious under your gaze.
Do you look at everyone like this? Like you're looking at him right now? Like you're scrutinizing every minute detail of his face?
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're very pretty?" Jungkook's whole body heated up as he heard your compliment, unable to control the blush that spread across his face. "Are your glasses prescribed?"
The remainder of the class passed with Jungkook doing his best to avoid your presence, while you continued shamelessly staring at him from the front row. He wondered why the professor hadn't called you out on your behavior yet. Maybe this whole college was biased toward popular kids.
As soon as the hour was up and the bell rang, Jungkook was the first to swiftly get up, eager to make his escape. The intensity of your gaze was becoming overwhelming, and he felt as though he might burst into flames if he stayed any longer. Your presence was growing more intense with every passing second.
When you saw Jungkook hastily gather his belongings and rush out of the hall without even sparing another glance at you, you grabbed your bag, which you hadn’t even bothered to open yet, and ran after him, ignoring the calls of your name behind you from Jimin. This time, thankfully, you didn’t lose him in the crowd.
When you caught up to him, Jungkook was a little surprised to see you, not expecting you to follow him even after class.
"Wha-what are you doing?"
"We're hanging out."
"I never said yes to that."
"You never said no either." You said following him. "Why are you so scared of me, Jungkook?" You sound honestly curious about the question.
"I'm-I'm not scared."
"Then do you talk to everyone like that?" Ignoring your comment, Jungkook continued walking in a familiar direction.
"Where are we going?"
"Central Library." Jungkook doesn't know why he keeps answering you, it's like the words fall out before he can stop himself.
"Why? We just had a class," you whined a little. "Let's go to that gazebo behind the literature department." Jungkook doesn't have to know that it was a popular spot for people to make out. But it seemed that your suggestion fell on deaf ears, as you found yourself following Jungkook into the library without getting any response from him.
"I want to study for the next class."
As Jungkook walked alongside you, he couldn't help but notice all the attention the two of you were receiving on your way to the library. It made him wonder if you were equally affected by the curious stares, or if you had grown so accustomed to such attention that it didn’t faze you anymore.
Not wanting to be in the spotlight any longer, Jungkook led himself—and involuntarily, you—to seats in a less conspicuous area, hidden from the prying eyes of most people. Luckily, the seats there were unoccupied, with only two girls sitting at the table across from you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.
"Do you spend all of your free time in the library?" You questioned as you settled on the seat beside him, a little too close for his liking. Your body was halfway turned toward him, and his eyes couldn't help it travel a little further south from your face. Jungkook thought that you had to know what you were doing; there was no way it was unintentional. 
Deciding to ignore your presence altogether, Jungkook took out his earphones and plugged them in his mobile, resuming the playlist he was listening to the night before. And apparently you took it as an invitation to take one of the earplugs and put it in your own ear. 
When you started humming to the music and singing somewhat broken lyrics to 'wasted years' along with Bruce Dickinson, it left Jungkook quiet stunned.
"You-you listen to heavy metal?" Jungkook asked with a raised eyebrow and you once again give him that smile of yours that seemed very dangerous.
"Sometimes, mostly Iron Maiden. Why? Can't I?"
"No-no, it's just, you- you don't seem like someone who'd... listen to heavy metal."
"Yeah? Then what do I seem like?" Your question caught him off guard and his eyes travelled to your lips. Still sitting too close to him, Jungkook could almost feel the warmth emitting from your body and it left him feeling a little strange, he couldn't decide if the feeling was the good or the bad kind.
You on the other hand almost did a victory dance in your head when you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips a little longer. You didn't make any further moves, knowing he might get uncomfortable and that's the last thing you want.
"I don't kn-know."
You heard the quiet sigh he let out in relief when your phone started buzzing in your hand, alerting you of text messages. Silently cussing at whoever it was, you turned on your phone to see the SMS.
Dooly 🐣 : Where the fuck did you go you rat?
Dooly 🐣 : You always do this bitch. And I always wait for you after class 🤡 🤡
You : I'm so sorry Chimmy. I'm with Jungkook.
Dooly 🐣 : You're with Jungkook 🥵?
You : Lol no. I wish tho 🤤🤤
You : we're just hangin in the Library 🙃.
Dooly 🐣: did your phone autocorrect sucking dick for 'hangin in the library' ? 🥴
You : stawppp bitch. We ain't doing anything. Just hangin.
Dooly : You ditched me to just hang in the library? Not cool 🙅🏻. Hope he never gives you dick.
You : Don't say that 🥹. I'm sorry.
Dooly 🐣: Whatever, dude. I'm smoking the good weed all by myself 😏😏
You : Don't say that 🥺🥺.... I'll make it up to you. Do you want a nude?
You didn't get a reply after that, so you reverted your attention to Jungkook who was already engrossed in his laptop. A smile automatically found its way to your lips when you saw how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips were already making a small pout.
You decided not to disturb him and settled for admiring him silently.
*******
'Baby, you want more?' Your voice was nothing but a sweet melody as you whispered in Jungkook's ear. Your hips are moving in a circular motion. Your cunt bare and wet as it rubbed against his cock.
All he could do in response was moan a loud 'yes' . Jungkook felt like he was in heaven. Your tits were bare and glistening with sweat as they bounced in his face. He could just reach out and suckle on them but he couldn't for some reason.
'Come on, baby boy. Touch me.' You demanded. Your voice was lower and you were moaning. 'Touch me, Jungkook. I'm all yours.' The way you said his name made him want to cum all over you. Paint you all white.
'I can't.' Jungkook said in frustration. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't reach out to grab those beautiful mounds of flesh. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to touch you, kiss you, please you.
'It's ok, baby boy. I can do all the work.' The second your wet pussy sank down on his hard as rock-penis was the second Jungkook lost it all. He moaned out your name like chants. Your hands tugged on his hair as you jumped up and down on his cock. Your head rolled back, revealing your beautiful neck which he just wanted to take a bite out of.
'I'm cumming, that's it, baby boy. You're about to make me cum.'
Jungkook immediately jolted awake. He was panting and his breath was irregular. What the hell did he just see in his dream?
He threw the covers off of him when he realized he was sweating excessively. His whole body was on fire and his mind couldn't comprehend the dream. He took a moment to realize that he just dreamt of you riding him. Not only were you riding him but he was making you cum as well.
Was it because you were the only thing that he had thought about the whole evening? It wasn't his fault that all he could think about was you. You were the one following him around the whole day in that little outfit that did nothing to cover your body.
Jungkook's cock was achingly hard. It was throbbing. When he looked down he could see it practically poking its way out of his sweatpants.
He has never felt this turned on before, not even when he watches his favorite genre of porn. Not even when Vivian Sue, his first girlfriend touched him down there for the first time when he was 16. But just a dream of you had him practically heaving.
He laid still for a few seconds, waiting for the boner to go down because there was no way he was going to give in to you so easily, he can't let you affect him like that. He has to fight his boner.
'Let's think of something disgusting.' Jungkook thinks to himself, 'Mingyu's feet. Yugyeom's sweaty hands. Dead dogs. Uncooked chicken. Your tits, your tits, your tits.'
Jungkook let out a groan in frustration. Fuck why was it so hard.
"Fuck it." Jungkook mumbles under his breath before taking out his throbbing cock from the restraint of his sweatpants. A soft involuntary moan left his mouth when his hands came into contact with the angry tip of his cock. He sighed in relief.
His hands slowly started rubbing his cock up and down. Thumb spreading the precum to make it easier for his fist to slide of the member.
He should think about something else, you're a person and it's unfair to masturbate to you. Specially when he has no sexual relationship with you. It was just wrong but he couldn't think of something else.
The image of your tits bouncing was still fresh in his head. The way your plump lips spread wide open to moan out his name, calling him 'baby boy'. The way you arched your back in pleasure as you rode him, your shiny pussy lips gliding up and down his cock. The images were all too clear in his head and once again you were all he could think of.
Your name left his mouth as moans and he thanked god his flat-mate was not home tonight to hear him through the thin walls. He was moaning your name pretty loudly and there was no way Caleb wouldn't hear it if he was home.
Soon enough Jungkook was pumping his cock in a rapid speed. All to the thoughts of you doing vile things in his head. He couldn't help but think if you would actually feel as good as you did in his dreams. If your pussy was actually so tight that it would suck his cock in.
When Jungkook finally came down from his high he could see white, literally and figuratively. He felt lightheaded. He had never cum so much, so fast. His seeds were all over his sheets and some on his own stomach.
He felt guilty. Disgusted in himself. Jungkook can't believe he did that to you. Specially when he promised himself and his brother that he would never let himself get attracted to you.
He hoped to god not to run in to you the next day, because there was no way he could face you now after what he just did.
*******
"How dare you not tell us, Guk?" It was Mingyu's voice behind Jungkook that stopped him from walking any further into the campus.
He turned around and looked at his best friends in confusion. They didn't look angry or upset, they just looked shocked.
He racked his brain while they walked up to him but couldn't find a reason as to why they would react like this.
"What are you guys talking about?"
"You were ASKED OUT by THE __ ___. Are you KIDDING ME?" Yugyeom partially yelled on his face and before Jungkook could answer they bombarded him with a series of questions.
"Did you fuck her? Is it true? Does she really have nipple piercings?"
"How many times did she let you hit?"
"Does she really suck at giving head?"
As Jungkook's friends questioned him, he felt an inner discomfort building up. He didn't appreciate their probing and, surprisingly moreover, he realized he didn't like the way they were talking about you. A strange urge welled up inside him, compelling him to defend you behind your back. For the first time, he felt the strong feeling of hate towards his own friends because of the way they were speaking of you.
Even though none of it was new to Jungkook, he had heard people talking about you like that before, even worse, but it never mattered to him. He never raised an eyebrow when people called you names, said crude things about you. He never called them out when they said things as if you were not a person but an object that everyone wanted to play with. But now, hearing these things made him angry at his own friends.
"Don't talk about her like that." Jungkook simply said.
"Woah... Bro you're whipped already, is her pussy that good?"
"I said don't talk about her like that. And we never did anything, I said no when she asked me out." There was a sudden pregnancy pause as both of his best friends looked at him in confusion.
"What?" Mingyu asked as if Jungkook was speaking some foreign language.
"I said I turned her down."
"I'm sorry, did you hit your head when you were a kid?" Yugyeom scoffed unbelievingly.
"What do you mean you turned her down? When she asks you out you don't say no, you bend on your knees and you ask her when and where."
"I don't have time for this, I have class." Jungkook resumed towards his path after rolling his eyes at his friends, ignoring their comments about how he has to be lying and if he really did say no to you then he's an idiot.
Jungkook doesn't understand the strange feelings swirling within him. Up until recently he was so sure that he absolutely hated you, hated everything you stand for, specially your nasty personality. Yet, the strong feeling of wanting to protect and defend you now confuses him. Why does he want to scream at his friends right now? Why does the mention of your name makes him feel jittery?
For the second time that morning Jungkook was interrupted on his way by somebody calling his name.
"Jungkook!" The voice called again but this time it was closer. He turned in just in time to see you run towards him in yet another one of your tiny outfits. Your clothes today covered more surface than the previous day, at least your denim skirt was a little longer and your breast weren't about to spill out of your little pink top with tiny strawberry prints.
"Hi." As you stood in front of him, his heart thumped against his chest. His dream from last night was still very vivid in his head. The images of you had engraved themselves in his brain and his whole body heated up with embarrassment and guilt when he remembers how he was so far gone into the lust that he shamelessly masturbated to you.
There were two similar to go cups in either of your hands, one filled with green and other with pink. Jungkook wonders what you were doing at this part of the campus when your classes were all the way over to the other side. Did you come all the way over here only to meet him? You wouldn't would you?
"Here, I got you strawberry Boba tea." You handed him the cup as you sipped on your own matcha.
"How do you-"
"I saw you order this in the café, the other day."
"What are you doing here? You don't have any classes here." He said a little shyly. The blush on his face was very evident although you might not know the reason behind it and he would like to keep it that way.
"Yeah, my classes start after 12. I thought I'll just hangout with you." You replied batting your eyelashes at him. "Won't you introduce me to your friends, Jungkook?" At your question Jungkook remembers that he was not alone right now and turned to look at the said friends, only to find them shamelessly staring at you with their mouth practically hung open as if they were meeting a celebrity or something. They both looked a little starstruck by you right now. You go to the same college as they do, what's the big deal?
"We know you." The tallest one out of the three said instantly and you raised your eyebrows at him. Jungkook wanted to scoff at their reactions.
Now you're aware that you're pretty famous (or infamous) around your college but you thought it was mostly in your department or the departments surrounding yours. You never knew you were also known all to the other side of the campus. Or perhaps Jungkook has talked about you with his friends? The thought alone made you want to giggle like a stupid teenager.
"You do?" You asked with a confused smile.
"Yeah we follow you on Instagram, I'm Yugyeom by the way."
"I'm Mingyu, we're Jungkook's friends."
"Oh, Hi. Nice to meet you guys." You said in that sweet voice of yours that Jungkook finds really obnoxious.
"Jungkook has class right now, if you want, you can hangout with us?" Mingyu suggested with a shy smile and before you could answer you felt a tug in your hand.
"It's fine guys, she has to get back to her department." With that Jungkook was dragging you out of there and you waved goodbye to his friends.
"What happened?" You asked with a little smirk as the boy gently dragged you along. You wonder if there was a chance that Jungkook was suddenly jealous of you talking to his friends.
In Jungkook's head he was doing you a favour. There was no way in hell he was going to let you alone with his friends after he just heard the way they talked about you. He was aware that you were very much capable of protecting or defending yourself. But just the thought of you spending time with his friends and them taking it as a signal sends chills down his spine.
"Jungkook, stop." He did as he was told and released your hand. "What happened? Why do you look mad?"
There's no need for you to know the actual reason behind why he's mad.
"Why did you come here?"
"I thought we could hang out."
"You don't have to. And you certainly don't have to bring me this." He said holding up the cup of pink bubble tea.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want anything to do with you."
"Are we seriously back to square one? I thought we bonded yesterday."
"I don't know what- what made you think that."
"I promise I won't bother you. Please, if I annoy you, you can tell me and I'll go away." Jungkook sighed at your proposal but didn't say anything and started walking towards his class. You happily took that as a hint to follow him.
*******
"Oh look, it's the girl who has given up all her dignity for a boy."
"Shut up, Jimin." you said as you sat down at the your usual spot, in the café beside your best friend.
"No, you don't get to be mad at me. I am mad at you. You've been ditching me all week."
"I'm sorry." Jimin rolled his eyes at your apology, mostly because it didn't seem sincere.
Thankfully the café this time of the day always seem pretty empty because crowd was the last thing you needed right now, it was only occupied by your group and some other people.
Even half of your group was missing, only Jimin and Hobi were there when you came in.
"You're still chasing that Jungkook guy?" Hosoek asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes." It was you best friend who had decided to answer on behalf of you.
"Wow, I've never seen you this desperate for dick."
"It's not just about that, Ok?" You snapped. "I mean, I don't even care if I don't get to have sex with him. I just... I don't know what it is, I guess I like him or something."
Both your friends look astound at your revelation. In fact you yourself was kind of amazed at what you said, never realizing it before the words left your mouth.
The last time you had romantic feelings for someone, he broke your heart and moved away from the city. Saying that he never intended to continue this relationship after graduating. That's why you dreaded having any sort of romantic relationship after that. The heartbreak was just too much and so not worth it.
You promised yourself that you'll only stick to sexual relationships from now on, no strings attached, that's until Jungkook came along. At first you thought it was just because he said no to you and you took it as a challenge. But that was not it. He made you feel different, he made you want to spend time with him even if you don't get any orgasms out of it.
That day when you spent time with him in the library you realized you liked looking at Jungkook's face. It gives you joy, no conversations need to take place and you would still enjoy his company.
Jimin was instantly by your side, forgetting the fact that he was supposedly mad at you. "Oh my god, you actually like him. That's the face you made when you told me about Yoongi."
"Really?"
"Wait, I thought we weren't suppose to talk about him."
"You can talk about him, Hobi. I've moved on," You assured your other friend before getting back to the previous topic. "And I guess I do, I just spent an hour with him in his chemistry lecture and I actually didn't mind because I got to be with him."
"Oh my god this is huge."
"No, its not that huge."
"It is kinda huge." You rolled your eyes before steeling Hoseok's muffin.
"Anyway, are you still mad at me?"
"NO. I thought you were ditching for dick, I didn't know you were in love with him." Jimin said with a smile.
"Shut up, I'm not in love."
The next five minutes went by you trying to convince your best friends that you're not in love and them teasing you about it.
"Hey guys, what are you talking about?"
"Joon." you instantly stood up to greet your friend with a tight hug. "Where's Jennie?"
"In class, we're supposed to meet here." he replied sitting in the empty chair beside the couch.
"We were talking about her new crush." said Hoseok making you glare at him.
"Oh right, Jennie told me about Jungkook."
"Of course she did, when has she ever been able to shut her mouth."
"In her defense, she kept her mouth shut for three whole days after she found out."
You met Namjoon through Yoongi, they were both in the swim team and as the girlfriend of the captain you became a part of their friend group by default. Namjoon was the sweetest jock you have ever seen. Even after you and Yoongi broke up Namjoon stayed friends with you, and you heard through his friends that he even scolded Yoongi for you. One day when you saw Namjoon drooling over one of your best friends you introduced them both and one year later they're still dating.
"Are you guys going to Rick Miller party this weekend?"
"I don't know. They never has the good boo-" Jimin started but a light bulb went off in your head.
"Yes we are." You replied.
"We are?" Jimin asked you'
"Yes, now Namjoon," you started turning to face your friend with glinting eyes. "I heard you're still friends with Won-woo."
"Oh no, I don't like where you're going with this." Namjoon shook his head.
"Just hear me out."
"OK fine. Yes we're still friends."
"Then you could convince him to bring Jungkook to the party?"
"I don't know, __, I don't think I should meddle, and if he finds-"
"Joonie, please?" You gave him the puppy eyes that works on almost everyone, key word- almost. "Don't forget I introduced you to your pretty girlfriend."
"Are you gonna hang that over my head forever?"
"Pretty much."
"What are you gonna do anyway? And I don't know if you can tell but Kook's not really the party type of guy."
"I don't know, I haven't figured that yet. But if he sees me outside of college then maybe he'll actually talk to me." It seemed that your words didn't convince any of your friends. "Look just please try, I'll owe you one."
"Fine. But I can't promise anything."
*******
Jungkook's eyes goes back and forth from the mobile in his hand and to the thick white liquidy substance all over his sheets.
The picture displayed on his phone was one of your recent pictures you've uploaded on Instagram. It was a picture of you laying on a beach towel, sunbathing, it was nothing scandalous, just a simple picture of you in a bathing suit.
He closes his eyes out of shame. This was the third day in a row that Jungkook had masturbated to you and he has never felt so ashamed of himself, he felt like he was objectifying you and it was very wrong.
He quickly takes a Kleenex from the nightstand and wipes himself clean. It wasn't like he hadn't tried other things, he had. He tried watching porn, hentai, anything that would keep him going but unfortunately it was only you that made him hard anymore.
Jungkook then carefully tucks his still sensitive cock back in his sweatpants and laid back down in his bed. It was 10:00 on a Saturday morning and he was just so glad that at least he wouldn't have to face you for two days. He was going to spend these two days doing anything that would get his mind off you.
Your picture was still open on the screen of his phone and it compelled him to scroll further. It seemed that you were pretty popular on Instagram, and you didn't even post anything other than photos of yourself and sometimes your friends.
His thumb stopped scrolling when it came across a particular selfie. You were making a cute face at the camera and you were clearly sitting on a guy's lap whose face could not be seen. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, only silver hair visible. Jungkook's eyes narrowed in on the picture, taking notice of every single detail. Was it somebody you dated in the past? Or was it just one of your friends? You do seem awfully close to your friends.
He felt a weird pang in his chest looking at the picture. It wasn't an old picture at least it was uploaded recently, only 6 days ago to be exact. And if you were already seeing someone why would you approach him and ask him out on a date?
Overwhelmed by his sudden feelings, Jungkook shut his phone and threw it against his mattress. C'mon JK, you need to stop thinking about her.
To pull him out of his thoughts filled with you, the doorbell of his apartment rang twice. Jungkook waited on his bed thinking his roommate could open the door, it's not like he himself gets any visitors anyway.
The doorbell rang again and he stood up from his bed, a little annoyed because he was planning to spend a few more hours in bed.
"Hyung?" The sight of Wonwoo behind the door surprised Jungkook a little. His brother has visited his apartment only twice, once when he was looking for an apartment and once when he helped him move in, that's it. So seeing him on his doorstep all of a sudden surprised him.
"Hey, Guk. What's up?" Jungkook opens the door wide enough to welcome him in and shuts the door behind them. There was not much age difference between the two Jeons, Wonwoo was only a little more than a year older than Jungkook. But Wonwoo always treated Jungkook like a kid, and not in a good way. At first it was endearing when Jungkook was actually a kid, but now it was just annoying.
"What are you doing here, Hyung?"
"Yah, can't I visit my brother? Eomma called this morning, she said you're not picking up her calls," Oh right, there was a reason Jungkook wasn't picking up his mother's calls and he wasn't proud of it. "I was around here so I thought I'd see what you're up to."
"Yeah, I was going to call her back. I was doing... something." At the suspicious raised eyebrow given to him by his brother he came up with an better excuse. "Working out. I was working out." Wonwoo doesn't need to know that he just spent an entire morning dreaming of you and touching himself.
"Working out huh? I see you've already built some muscles, little Kookie." There it was again, the condescending tone and the 'little Kookie' like he was some damn kid learning how to ride a bike.
"Is there something else you want, Hyung?" Jungkook asked politely. Yes Jungkook hated him time to time but it was still his older brother and he respected him.
"Nah, now that I know you're not dead, I can go back."
"Ok. I'll call Eomma and let her know you stopped by."
As Wonwoo was in front of the door ready to leave he stopped in his tracks and turned around.
"Hey, Gguk,"
"Yeah?"
"There's a party tonight at one of my teammates place, umm do you wanna go with me and the boys?" Jungkook was almost shocked at his question. He was always under the impression that his brother was somewhat embarrassed of his nerd younger brother, and now he wants him to come to a party with him and 'the boys'?
"What?" He asked as if the question wasn't clear to him.
"Namjoon suggested that you could do some socializing. And this party is just perfect, everyone goes every semester, even students from your department. And it's also not THAT wild."
"I don't know, Hyung. I'm not really a party person."
"I know. That's what I said. But he's right, a little socializing never hurts anyone. And if it's too much for you, you can always come back."
"I'll think about it."
"Ok, bro. Let me know whenever you change your mind."
*******
You can't recall the last instance you felt this thrilled about a college party. Yes they were fun and you got to get high and drunk with your friends and then you'd find a hot guy and sleep with him, but it was all becoming monotonous now. The same shit all the time. But this time it was different, there was a possibility that Jungkook could be there and that made you...excited?
You also can't remember the last time you went to a party and didn't get high right away.
"So what did Wonwoo say? Will he bring Jungkook?" You asked Namjoon who was sitting across from you on a chair with his girlfriends on his lap.
"Babe, its not even 11 yet, give 'em some time." Jimin said offering you the joint which you refused with a shake of your head.
You were currently sitting on Jimin's lap because you don't trust any furniture in these frat houses. God knows who has been there and done what. It has become a regular occurrence now. Whenever you went to these parties your only seat was your friend's lap, because these dresses ain't cheap.
"Wait, did you dress up all pretty for him?" asked Jennie, sipping that fruit punch that was spiked so many times with different alcohols that you were sure it was poisonous now. Instead of going for the 'hot girl' look tonight you decided to wear something that would make you look 'beautiful'.
The anticipation of Jungkook's arrival tonight was gradually diminishing. Positioned where you were, you had a clear view of the front door, yet there was no sign of Jungkook or his brother. Just as you were about to turn to Jimin to express your disappointment once more, a familiar tuft of fluffy hair caught your attention.
Your face instantly lit up at the sight of the boy. And of course Jungkook looked as cute as always if not more. You notice how he was wearing a black dress shirt and gray pants instead of his usual oversized tees and trousers.
"Should I go over right now or should I wait?" You asked your friends and they turned to look at the boy.
"I say wait at least 20 minutes. You don't wanna look desperate."
"Hobi, I've been following the guy for days. I don't think one can look any more desperate than that."
"True."
"I should go ask him for a drink."
"I'm pretty sure there's no bubble tea here." Jimin commented making the rest of the circle laugh.
"Ha ha, very funny. Suck a dick."
Jungkook looked very out of the place when you walked up to him. He didn't notice you until you were right in front of him.
"Hi, I didn't know you'd be here."
On the other hand, Jungkook wasn't particularly surprised to find you here. In fact, while getting ready, he had imagined the possibility of encountering you at least twenty times, playing out scenarios in his head about how he would react and what he would say. His gaze subtly traced over your figure, clad in a white glittery dress with a sweetheart neckline.
"You look handsome," you complimented him, noting the slight flush that colored his cheeks. It was the first time you had really taken notice of his muscular arms. Those t-shirts he typically wore to college certainly didn't do justice to his physique at all.
'You-You look pretty, as well."
"You think so?" you asked, giggling. You've always been aware that you're quite attractive; confidence has always been your strong suit. However, hearing the words coming from Jungkook—the boy who had never even acknowledged you—gave you a whole new sense of conviction.
"Yes."
"Thanks. Are you here with someone?"
"Umm, yes, my- my brother was suppose to meet me here."
"Maybe I can wait with you until you find him?"
"No, its ok. You should get back to your friends."
"No, please. Let me?" Jungkook couldn't quite pinpoint the reason—whether it was the fact that you were meeting outside of college, the way you looked, or the guilt that Jungkook couldn't shake off—but when you asked with that look on your face, he couldn't say no. "Okay, Kook, let's go get you some drinks," you said, taking the lead.
As you held his hand and pulled him further inside the house, it sent shivers throughout his body. Jungkook still couldn't believe that someone like you would actually take the time to entertain him, especially right now when you could just be with your friends and enjoy your time.
"You're okay with alcohol, right?" you asked, turning to face Jungkook as you both stood in front of a large table filled with all kinds of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. With so many people surrounding the table, the gap between your back and his chest was practically nonexistent.
"Yeah, but. Nothing too strong."
"The fruit punch is out of question then." Jungkook looked at the big glass jar that looked too pink to be consumable. "I'm gonna make you a __ special."
"A __ special? What's that?"
"A few months ago I accidently made this cocktail and it tastes amazing. You're gonna love it." You said already looking for the ingredients.
"What's in it?"
"Mostly Pineapple juice and tequila, but there's my secret ingredient, that I've never told anyone." You said, pouring the pineapple juice in the red cup. "Its actually red-bull, but promise me you'll never tell anyone." You handed him your invention proudly and he couldn't help but smile at the evident excitement on your face.
"Ok." He said, sniffing the liquid before taking a sip.
"How is it?" Horrible, it was horrible, Jungkook has never tasted anything this bad in his entire life. But that smile on your face, Jungkook could never let down that smile on your face.
"Its good."
"Right?" You said, making a drink for yourself, well, just pouring neat vodka in a cup.
"Do you go to college parties regularly?"
"Well, the first two years I did. But then it became boring, so we only attend sometimes, when we have nothing else to do."
"This is actually my first time." he admitted and it made you smile that he was finally talking to you without stuttering.
"Yeah? What made you come to this one."
"My hyun- my brother said it would be good for me to socialize a little."
"I hope you're not regretting your decision so far."
"I'm- I'm not."
Silence enveloped both of you for the next few seconds, neither knowing what to say next. You had been so focused all this time on getting Jungkook to talk to you that you hadn't considered what you would talk about if you actually had a conversation. You and Jungkook had almost nothing in common.
Jungkook, on the other hand, remained skeptical about the whole situation. Ok, there might be a slight chance that you weren't orchestrating all of this to make fun of him with your friends and that you genuinely wanted to get to know him. But did that mean that everything he had ever heard about you was a lie? Or were you just putting up a front?
"Its really noisy in here, would you like to go to the backyard or something?" you asked in hopes of getting some alone time with the boy in front of you.
"Umm, I'm not sure, my brother would be looking for me." The entire world knows by now that Jungkook's brother will not give two damns if he got lost in this party but he's already done enough socializing for one day.
"Oh come on, Jungkook. I promise I won't try anything funny." the younger boy almost chuckled at the look on your face.
"Okay, I guess it won't hurt anyone." you did a little victory dance in your head before holding his hand in your unoccupied one and dragging him out of the now crowded house.
*******
"No way, you watch Anime?" after a few minutes of awkwardly walking around in the garden Jungkook and you finally fell into a conversation, although his sentences still don't consist of many words you counted this as a win.
"Yes, why is it so hard for you to believe that I watch anime and listen to heavy metal?"
"I don't know...y-you just don't seem like the type."
Jungkook had constructed a specific image of you in his mind based on all the things he had heard from his brother, friends, and people in general. So far, none of the things you had revealed about yourself fit into that image at all.
From everything Jungkook had heard, you didn't seem like the type of person to enjoy heavy metal or comic books, or engage in anything even remotely described as nerdy or boring. You were supposed to be this big mean girl who burned everything that came into contact with her; you weren't supposed to be approachable or relatable.
"What type do I seem like then?" You asked with genuine curiosity in your eyes, you were not offended that he dared to assume shit about you, you just wanted to see yourself from his eyes.
"Someone who would... laugh at my face if I tell her how much I love comic books."
"What? Why would I do that?" you asked with a laugh that made your eyes go small and cheeks fluffier. Jungkook swear he has not heard a prettier laughter. "You know what, if you get to-" Before you could complete your sentence you were cut off by the loud noise of your drunk 'Friend'.
"Oh, there she is," Jay stumbled on his way to you. When he reached you two you saw Jungkook visibly cringe at how much he stank of alcohol and weed.
"What do you want, Jay?" It wasn't really new for him to get crazy drunk at parties and approach you, but what really annoyed you was him interrupting the moment between you and Jungkook.
"Oh you are with the nerd." His eyes went to Jungkook who was looking at him with his doe eyes. "So did you finally have him? Are you bored yet?"
"What the fuck are you talking about, Jay? Leave us alone."
"Us? There is an 'us'?" he asking pointing his finger at you and Jungkook.
"Its none of your business."
"You? You seriously think you can change this slut? You fucking nerd, she's just gonna use you and throw you away like a tissue, you are nothing, literally nothing." He was now talking to Jungkook and standing too close to him for his comfort. You eyes were widening at his words.
"Jay what the fuck is wrong with you, get the fuck away from him." You had successfully pulled him enough away from Jungkook to get yourself in the middle. "I swear to god, you are going to regret this tomorrow so walk away."
"Or what? Your lap dog will come after me? Tell me do you let Jimin fuck you for all the service he does?" You were now absolutely disgusted with his words.
You looked back at Jungkook and saw him backing away, his eyes were on the ground, his face mimic the disgusted look on yours, you just don't know if it was for you or Jay.
"Jungkook, please don't listen to him, he's drunk and-"
"I-I'm, I'm just, I'm gonna head back. I'll see—" Without completing his sentence, Jungkook rushed back inside the house, presumably to leave through the front door.
"You FUCKING IDIOT, I swear to god if you ever come near me I'll fuck you up, I hate you. Do you not understand that I do not want you. Can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?" after ranting you quickly rushed after Jungkook not noticing the other man looking at you as if you just ruined his night and not the other way around.
"Jungkook stop," you called out guiding yourself through the sweaty bodies dancing and grinding and what not. "Please, just listen to me."
Taking advantage of his long legs and large steps, Jungkook was almost out of the front door and out of your sight. Just as you were about to cross the threshold, somebody threw a whole glass of fruit punch all over you.
"Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry-" You looked as the girl in front of you and if you were not in such a hurry you would bring another glass just to pour it down her head.
"It's okay." When you were out on the front yard, Jungkook was no where to be seen. You sighed in frustration, Jungkook was finally opening up to you and that rat just had to ruin-
"What happened to your dress?" Came a soft voice.
"You didn't leave yet." You smiled in relief.
"I was about to, I just- thought I should check on you first. He seemed pretty drunk."
"Look Jungkook, whatever he said, I'm very sorry about it. He shouldn't said that about you-"
"And what about you?"
"Huh?"
"He said worse things about you."
"Well... I'm pretty sure you have heard that before about me."
"I did. A lot."
"Look what he said to you was way out of line and I'm just so mad at him-"
"And why are you not mad at him for what he said about you?" His question confused you a lot.
"Because I'm used to it."
"Why?"
"I-I don't know. Jungkook, I know you are mad at what he said, but I swear to god, its not like that with you, I'm not-"
"I am, I am mad at what he said but not about me, I am mad at what he said about you and I am more mad that you let him."
"It's nothing, I don't really care."
"You should," he said calmly, "you should care, if you're really not what people say then you should stand up for yourself." with that he turned around to walk away from the house.
"Wait," he turned around. "Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."
******
Jungkook's room was cute, just like him—warm and cozy. Surprisingly, it was cleaner than what you expected a guy's room to be, except for a few pieces of clothes thrown over his gaming chair.
"Here, you can change into this?" Jungkook said handing you a big black t-shirt of his and his boxer briefs.
It was safe to say that Jungkook was completely freaking out right now. He had never had a girl at his place, and now he not only had 'any' girl but you roaming around in his room with your delicate feet in that tiny pink-stained white dress of yours.
"Can I use the shower?" you asked and he pointed to the brown door behind you.
As soon as you were behind the door he let out a loud breath that he was holding in ever since you started following him to his place.
When he was going out tonight he was only supposed to stay for 10-15 minutes and comeback to finish his paused video game. He had no intention whatsoever to bring a girl back let alone you out of all people.
Its not that Jungkook hates the idea of you in his shower, naked. Its that even the idea of it makes him all hot and bothered.
Jungkook looks back to the time 20 minutes ago, he could have booked you a cab for your own place but when you looked all innocent and helpless he couldn't help but utter those four words.
"Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."
"I live near by."
And that is how you ended up naked in his bathroom. Just a wooden door away.
Looking around his room, he quickly made sure there was no embarrassing thing left on any surface. With his shaking hands, he tidied up his room a little, stuffing everything in his closet— it was now future Jungkook's problem. However, Jungkook's immediate concern was the very visible tent in his gray pants.
Dammit, when did he get a hard on? Was it the thought of you naked in his bathroom, or was it your clearly very wet dress, or was it when you asked him if you could shower, or was it when he first saw you in this evening.
Maybe if he changed into some loose sweatpants, it wouldn't be very noticeable, so he did. Without taking a shower or cleaning himself of tonight's chaos, he quickly changed into his black sweatpants and a t-shirt similar to the one he gave you.
You couldn't believe you were inside Jungkook's shower, you personally thought that showers were a little too intimate, you have never showered at any of your hookup's place. In fact the last time you used a man's shower was when you were with Yoongi.
Now here you were in Jungkook's bathroom, looking at one of the most private parts of his life. The kind of shower gel he uses, the color of his toothbrush everything was too intimate and left you feeling giddy in your stomach. Not to mention you were wearing his clothes.
His t-shirt was too loose on you, your shoulders were tiny compared to his broad once, t-shirt was almost falling below your mid thigh whereas his hips were so petite that his boxers were a little tight on you.
You took a palm full of cold water and threw it on your face in hopes that your cheeks would cool down a little. Once you opened the door and went outside you saw Jungkook in different clothes sitting on his bed with two bowls in his hands.
When the boy looked up at you, you could see his cheeks visibly flush red. If only you could read his mind you would know how much in awe he was right now.
Jungkook had always known that you were pretty, it was no secret from the whole world, people simped after you for a reason. But right now, in his clothes, with your face bare of any makeup you were absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous.
"I- ummm... I heat up some pasta from lunch... hope you don't mind leftovers." His voice was once again too small. Like he lost all the confidence you saw back there in the party.
"No, Thank you so much. I was hungry." You said taking a seat beside him and taking the bowl from his hand. You let out a tiny moan after taking the first bite. "This is delicious, did you make this." He only nod his head in answer.
The next few minutes were spent as you two ate in silence, enjoying the meal he cooked. Your mind went back to what he said to you at the party.
"Jungkook?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you really think that I should care about what people say about me?"
"Not people. I just think that you let your friends take you for granted. A lot. If they really are your friends they wouldn't talk shit about you like that."
This is the biggest sentence you heard Jungkook saying till now, that too without stuttering. You smiled at him and he got shy again. the tip of his ears along with the apple of his cheeks started flushing.
"What?"
"Nothing, just. Ever since Yoongi and I broke up, i kind of took on that whole 'it girl' role. And I don't really care about what people say or call me and maybe that's why none my friends care either, but... it feels nice to have someone get mad on your behalf."
When Jungkook looked at your eyes and the little smile on your face he could finally see you, not the girl people describe and not the girl his brother seemed to hate so much, he could see you, he couldn't understand if you were the same person who supposedly hurt so many people and broke so many hearts.
You noticed how his eyes traveled to your lips and then back to your eyes.
"I am... You can sleep here, I-I'll just take the couch in the hall."
"Its okay, i guess... we can share a bed."
You suggestion almost made him hiccup. He is almost 23 years old and he has never shared a bed with another woman, well beside his mom and cousins obviously.
"Umm, no its okay...I can just take the couch." Truth was that Jungkook wasn't sure if he will be able to breath properly if he slept beside you.
"Come on Jungkook, I won't bite." You said while putting your hand on his shoulder, as soon as you hand touched him he jumped up from the bed as if you shocked him.
"Goodnight, if you need anything just wake me up...or whatever." With that he picked up a pillow and left the room.
*******
The next day, when Jungkook walked into his Psychology class, you were already sitting there, waving your hand at him and patting the empty seat beside you. Of course, Jimin was on your other side, looking more uninterested than ever.
Jungkook wasn't aware that you were in the same class; he had never noticed you before. He began searching for another seat to avoid being distracted by you throughout the class. However, he couldn't find any available seats that weren't at the back.
"Hi Jungkook." You said once he finally settled down beside you but received no reply from the boy and it made you frown, was he seriously going to pretend that nothing happened last night, like those few minutes of bonding were nothing.
"I recently transferred classes." You informed him about the tiny detail. "You have to help me with whatever that's been going on." you said as he silently put down his stuff beside you. He sat down without doing much to acknowledge your existence but you looked around and saw there were many vacant seats in the hall and he chose to sit beside you, so he's not completely ignoring you or anything.
"I don't understand a single thing this man is saying." you exclaimed quietly but loud enough.
"Yes, and thanks to you we are stuck here." Jimin rolled his eyes beside you.
"Can you please help me catch up after lecture?" You looked at Jungkook.
"Since when do you care about academics?" Jungkook asked while writing down whatever the old man was saying.
"Since now. Pretty please?" The boy looked at you as you batted your eyelashes and sighed.
"Fine. I don't have any other class after this, I can help you study."
You almost exclaimed loudly but then recalled how rude and unfiltered Mr. Hastings was so you sat quietly for the rest of the lecture.
Once the lecture finally ended and you saw Jungkook preparing to get out of the class, you quickly got up to follow him. "I'll see you guys at the cafe ok?" you told your best friend and without waiting for a reply ran after Jungkook.
"Where are we going?"
"To the library."
"I thought you don't have any classes after this. Neither do I. Why can't we just leave?" You whined, feeling slightly irritated by his unexpected behavior. It's not like his behavior was new—he'd been like this from the beginning. But after last night, you really thought something had shifted. You didn't just imagine everything, did you? This morning he even made you a breakfast sandwich and arranged an Uber for you.
"I like studying in the library." Of course he does!
"Let's just go to your place." You said while trying and failing to drag him with you. 'Wow, he sure is pretty strong' "Come on, Jungkook. Pleaseeeee! I hate that library, Its so silent and cold."
Jungkook bit his lips while contemplating your offer. 'God you are so irresistible' Last night Jungkook almost forgot about all the promises he made to his brother. His beliefs towards you were slowly changing, he knew you were not the monster everyone made you to be, quite the opposite actually. Still, he believed hanging with you was like walking on burning coals, he was ought to get burned.
Jungkook didn't say anything. He just let you happily drag him out of this dreadful campus. He thinks he has spent the whole night alone with you at his place without letting himself lose control, he's pretty sure he can do a few more hours.
*******
Somehow this afternoon Jungkook was much less nervous than last night. Thank god he decided to clean the whole place right after you left. You were sitting on his bed with your pretty legs under your butt as your wide eyes looked up at him.
"Do you want anything to drink?"
"Just water." He nodded and left to grab a bottle from his kitchen.
'Calm down Jungkook, you are just gonna help her study and then she's gonna leave'. Wiping his sweaty palms on his sweatshirt Jungkook reentered his room only to find you out of the cardigan that was covering you, leaving you only in a beige camisole and a pair of white shorts.
"I hope you don't mind. Your room's kinda warm"
"Its okay. Water." He handed you the bottle with almost shaky hand.
"Thanks."
"We should start, if you wanna cover all the topics before Mr. Hastings gives off assignments. He's pretty brutal while checking the papers."
For the next half and hour or so Jungkook has gone through 5 pages of his notes with you, or maybe 3; you weren't really counting. You would be lying if you said that you understood everything that came out of his pretty mouth, Psychology was not really one of the hardest subjects that you chose but he was just too pretty for you to focus on any thing besides him.
"You are not focusing." Jungkook said blatantly as you sat in front of him on his bed, giving him heart eyes while he just poured his heart to you about the schools of psychology.
"I totally am, I just listened to everything you said, and I totally agree."
"Really? Then which school emphasizes the role of unconscious conflicts, early childhood experiences, and defense mechanisms in the development of psychological disorders?"
"Ummm...the middle school?"
"NO the psychodynamic school." this was the first time you were seeing Jungkook speaking so loudly and passionately about something, and honestly it was a turn on. "Did you listen to anything I just said?"
"Sorry, I promise I'll focus from now on."
"Do, you want to take a break?" You were surprised that Jungkook was the first one who suggested to take a break and not you.
"Yeah sure, What should we do?" You asked suggestively knowing very well that Jungkook will not even think about the million things that you want to do to him right now but a girl can always hope right?
"Umm, I have video games, if you wanna play? Or we can watch anime." both the options were way different from what you were hinting so you took the matters in your own hand.
"Or..." You scooched closer to the boy, "We could make out." All the oxygen from Jungkook's body left him right there. His whole face was suddenly red and hot and he had no idea if you were just joking or if you were serious.
"Y-you want to do that?"
"You don't?" Of course he did, that is all he had thought about ever since you started talking to him.
"Wh-why me?" His question made you laugh lightly.
"Jungkook. Is it not painfully obvious that I am attracted to you?" As a matter of fact you have never tried hiding that you have a crush on him, not from him, not from anybody. So you were not sure why he was so surprised by your confession.
"But why me?" It broke you heart that he was not aware of how painfully gorgeous he was.
"Because-" You moved closer and removed his iPad from his hands , practically sitting on his lap. "I think you are the most gorgeous and sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life." You slowly reached for his face with your right hand removing his glasses, testing the waters. You would never do anything that would make him even slightly uncomfortable. "And you have beautiful eyes. Is this Ok?" Jungkook's voice was caught in his throat, all he could offer you was a nod which made you giggle.
"Do you want me to continue?" The conscious side of his brain was saying no, reasoning with him, what would he tell his brother? But his body was possessed, possessed by lust and the touch of your soft hands. His hands were suddenly involuntarily reaching out for you, he was craving to touch you, hold you and finally kiss you.
"Yes, please."
"As you wish, baby boy." Your lips finally met his soft ones and he felt like he has reached euphoria. He had completely lost control over his body. His hand grabbed you by the waist as hard as he could without hurting you and pulled you onto his laps.
His heart was beating so loudly that he was scared he would go into a cardiac arrest. The first few strokes of his lips were a little awkward, considering it was not a daily occurrence for him like you but after a few soft kisses his lips found the perfect rhythm with yours.
You smiled into the kiss as he slowly gained confidence and started kissing you more fiercely. His kisses were so soft and smooth that it felt like you have been kissing him daily. Soon you felt him opening his mouth a little wider so you took the opportunity and slipped in your tongue, he tasted like strawberries and mint, reminding you of his sweet taste in beverages.
"Wow!" you exclaimed as soon as he pulled away for some air. "You are a great kisser."
"T-thank you, so are you."
"Aww don't get shy now." you said pointing at the pink hue rising up his neck and to his cheeks. "So? you want to continue or you want to go back to studying?" You asked half seriously, hoping to god he wouldn't choose the second option.
"I think you've studied enough for today."
You let out a tiny giggle before crashing your lips again on his. You took his hand and dragged it up your chest, granting him permission to touch you. his hand stayed there for a second before giving your breast a tiny squeeze, pulling out a moan from you.
It wasn't much later that you started grinding your hips against his, feeling his very prominent boner through his pants. After a few circular motion of your hips, he was a moaning mess in your hands.
His shaky hands started pulling at your top with urgency, wanting to feel more of your exposed skin. You helped him take off your top and he sat still for a moment, looking at your breast like a little kid looking at a carnival.
"You wanna touch them?" You asked, guiding his hand to the hook of your bra and he nodded very eagerly. After the little piece of cloth came off his lips didn't waste a single second before coming in contact with your nipple, sucking on it as if it had the cure of all diseases. His tongue did a fantastic job making you whimper and moan on his lap.
"Oh my god, baby, you are so good at this." you cried holding the back of his head and guiding his mouth to all the right places.
Your lips wanted to taste him again so you did and this time he was the most confident. You had no idea how his kisses improved so much in a matter of few minutes, but you were not complaining. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth and his lips sucked in yours like a candy.
It was your turn now to pull at his t-shirt until it was thrown away in another corner of his room and there was no barrier between both of your upper bodies.
You sat there for a few seconds, admiring the view. He really was gorgeous, he was lean but very muscular, you knew he was hiding something delicious under all those baggy clothes.
Your fingertips ran along the smooth honey like skin until they reached the hem of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face asking for permission. He looked a little nervous.
"I want to suck your cock, Jungkook. I promise it will feel nice." He contemplated your offer for a few seconds before finally nodding his head yes and you gave him another kiss out of joy.
You didn't waste too much time before pulling his sweatpants and briefs down his thighs. His cock spring up at your touch making you almost drool. You have had sex with a lot of men A LOT, but you swear that you have never seen a prettier dick. Or maybe it looked so pretty because of the man it was attached to.
You leaned down and left tiny kisses along his thighs making his cock angrier and darker. It was so thick that you couldn't wrap your whole hand around it. You could already imagine how good it would feel inside you.
As soon as you gave a kitten lick on the tip, Jungkook let out a loud groan.
"Ple-please."
"Please what baby?"
"Please __, do something. It feels so nice."
You let out another giggle at his desperation and decided not to torture him any further. His one hand supported him up from the bed as the other one grabbed your head and pushed it further down, making you swallow his cock until it reached the back of your throat.
His precum tasted like butter, smooth and salty. You looked up at the boy while bobbing your head up and down, his eyes were closed and mouth was hung open as he moaned your name again and again like a mantra.
Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, what you couldn't fit in your mouth as your tongue constantly licked the head. His orgasm came without any warning, hitting your chest and face and your quickly wrapped your mouth around the tip in order to not waste any more of it. It would be such a shame to waste the cum from such a pretty cock.
You swallowed all his load and giggle when you looked at his expression. He looked like he was about to ask you to marry him.
"I'm sorry, i should have warned you." He said and you followed his eyes to the droplets of cum sitting prettily between both your breasts.
"Its ok, I like surprises." You said taking his t-shirt that he handed you to wipe his cum.
His eyes couldn't seem to look away from you. You've always been beautiful, but at this moment, you looked otherworldly. With your tousled hair and nearly bare face, he had never encountered anyone more stunning. When he kissed you this time, he was entirely confident; it was brief yet filled with intense passion.
"Teach me?" You looked at him confusingly.
"I want to do something for you, please you, make you--... I want to make you cum, teach me how to." You smiled at his request.
"Maybe some other time. You look tired right now, lets take a nap."
Some other time. You said 'some other time', does that mean it was not a one time deal with him.
He nodded at your suggestion and pulled up his sweatpants and briefs. Just as you were about to get up from his bed to give him his privacy his hand pulled you to his chest and wrapped around you tightly.
"Sleep with me?" He pleaded with a soft voice and you obliged happily.
As you slipped into slumber Jungkook couldn't help but wonder, was this post orgasm bliss that he was experiencing or did something just shift inside him? He suddenly felt anger towards his brother, towards everyone who has ever spoken ill about you.
It seemed impossible that someone so mean could be so sweet to him alone. He wanted to protect you, even though he knew he wasn’t strong enough. Still, he would do everything he could to ensure that no one ever harmed you.
******
When you woke up from your nap it was pretty dark outside Jungkook's window, you don't know how many hours you slept but it was one hell of a sleep.
Jungkook was still sound asleep, his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. You smiled to your self once you heard him snore. 'wow even he snores so prettily'.
You wanted to pee so bad but you were unable to even move under him. You laid there for a few more minutes not wanting to wake him up but the urge to take a leak just became unbearable.
"Jungkook..." You shook him slightly, "Baby, I need to use the restroom."
"Why?" He asked in his sleepy voice making you laugh.
"Why? Why do people use the toilet, silly?"
"Just do it on the bed."
"EW, Jungkook no."
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He laughed before getting up and you ran to the bathroom as soon as you were free.
'Did Jungkook just make a joke.' You thought as you sat down on the toilet. It was the first time you were watching this side of Jungkook, he was always either too nervous to talk to you or too irritated. You were happy though, that he could finally be himself around you.
After you cleaned yourself and walked back inside the room Jungkook was already dressed in fresh clothes and you missed his bare chest.
"Here," he handed you a grey t-shirt. "It is clean." You were surprised as he pulled you closer to him and pecked your lips. Neither of you spoke about your departure from his place and acted like it was daily occurrence for you to spend so much time at his flat.
"So? Should we continue with our lesson?" he asked pulling you down on his lap.
"Do we have to?"
"I mean, if you want to pass his class then yes."
"Or we can think about it later and do something fun."
"How about, we study for an hour and then you could choose any game that you want to play, I have 278 games that you can choose from."
"Oh my god, 278?" You asked with wide eyes and he nodded his head. "Wow you are a nerd."
"Guilty."
You agreed with his deal and he also promised to treat you with food after the study session.
You have to admit that studying was fun with Jungkook. His concepts were so clear that he made them sound very easy to you and by the end of the hour you were proud that you finally learned something today.
"Wow that was very easy, I have no idea how that man makes all of this sound so fucking boring. You know what you should be a lecturer."
"You think so?"
"Actually no, that is a very bad idea. Nobody will listen to a single thing that you say"
"Why?"
"They will be too busy looking at that pretty face." You said in all seriousness and he started blushing again.
"Okay so you wanna play FIFA?"
*******
"Wow you are smiling, A LOT." Jimin said and gave you a side eye as you happily sipped on your matcha tea.
"I'm always smiling."
"You are, but today it looks like your face got stuck with a hanger inside."
"That's because I am happy?"
"Why? What did you smoke?"
"Nothing, can't I be happy sober."
"You can, but you are only this happy when you smoke good weed."
"Let's go its time for class." You said getting up from the couch and pulling Jimin up with you.
"Seriously what happened to you? You want to go to class again?"
"If you don't come, I'll go by myself." Your threat seemed to work on him as he rolled his eyes and started following.
"What did this Jungkook guy do to you? Did he make you join some geeks cult? Blink twice for yes." Jimin joked as both of you made your way to Mr. Aitken's hall.
"Why is it so hard to believe that I want to study and attend my classes?"
"Yeah right, you also want to bake a pie and become a housewife."
When you enter hall SF22 your eyes immediately started looking for Jungkook and they lit up as soon as they spotted him. He seemed to have noticed you as he patted at the empty seat beside him with a shy smile.
"Let's go, Chimmy."
"You want to sit in the front?"
"Yeah why not."
"Maybe its time for me to switch best friends."
"As anyone else would tolerate you beside me. Hi, Jungkook." You said as you sat down beside him at glared at Jimin when he didn't greet him.
"Hey man." Jungkook immediately nodded at him and return his greeting.
Jungkook wondered if anyone in this hall could figure out that you spent the entire night at his place and made out with him till the dawn. What if they found out though? Would they mock him? Would they say more awful things about you? He hated being the center of attention, especially if it was for negative reasons, but he would still prefer people to talk shit about him rather than you.
Jungkook also wonders if you had the same feeling of despair as he did when you left this morning. He questioned whether everything that was happening effected you the way it did him.
Although the sweet smile that you gave him was reassuring enough he couldn't help but think if you would become bored of him sooner or later.
You on the other hand could practically see the wheels in his head turning around and he once again looked shy and nervous. What happened to the Jungkook you saw last night? the Jungkook that was confident enough to ask you to teach him how to make you cum.
"You okay?" You asked and before he nodded with another smile. You took his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.
The lecture went by neither of you saying anything, But you made sure to rub his thigh every now and then.
Once the lecture was over he didn't leave like he usually did but instead waited for you to get up first, you took him by surprise when you held out your hand for him. Jimin looked at you with a questioning look, he wouldn't say that you were not a PDA person but he has never seen you hold hands with some beside him and maybe Yoongi when you guys were together.
"I'll meet you at the cafe, Jiminie." You told your best friend giving him a side hug which he gladly returned and left with your hands in Jungkook's. He was happy for you, yes a little jealous that he had to now share his time with you with some other guy but if you were happy he wanted nothing more than that.
"Where are we going?" You asked swinging your joined hands back and forth.
"The library."
You complained a bit, but you happily went along with him. It didn’t matter where he went; you’d probably follow him even to the dumpster. You couldn’t quite explain this overwhelming desire to spend all your time with him—it had never happened to you before, not even with Yoongi. You usually needed your personal space, but with Jungkook, it felt different; he was your personal space.
The library was much quieter than usual for a Friday morning. Only a few people lingered among the shelves and chairs, and they seemed indifferent to both of you, allowing Jungkook to exhale in relief.
He was about to sit on his usual spot but you dragged him farther inside the liberary.
"I know a spot," you said, noticing the questioning look on his face as you led him to the library's unexplored section. The books were coated in dust, suggesting that no one had been here in ages—perhaps because Celtic mythology was considered a forgotten topic. Jungkook had never seen this part of the library before, and you only came here to make out in peace.
"What is this section."
"Celtic Mythology and that is paleontology, nobody comes here. Ever."
"Why?"
"I don't know, probably because nobody reads them anymore."
"That's sad. These books must have been lonely for years," he said, his voice tinged with sadness as he traced his fingers along the spine of a book. He looked as pure as the first rays of morning sunlight. It was endearing how much he cared, even for the forgotten books.
"Why are we here?" he asked, his innocence making you want to tuck him away in your pocket and shield him from the world.
"I wanted to kiss you." You were blunt like always, taking his breath away from his lungs.
"You do?"
"Umhmm, don't you?"
"I do. Very much."
"Then what's stopping you? Kiss me."
"What if- what if someone walks in?"
"Nobody comes here, trust me. I'm pretty sure half of these people don't even know the existence of this section," You said pulling him closer to you. "So... You can do whatever you like, baby. Nobody would know." Your words were enough reassurance for him. He cupped your face with both of his hands and pulled you in for a sweet and short kiss.
"Can I... can I touch you here?" He questions, fingers hovering over your covered pussy and you nodded in excitement.
His hands were shaky as they slid under your skirt and caressed your wetness through your panties. His touch was so soft yet it sent a lightning inside your body making you shiver and almost lose your balance. If it wasn't for his other hand holding your waist you would have fell down.
You held his hand and guided it inside your panty. You became so wet in just a few seconds. Jungkook was eager so he did what he craved for, dipped two fingers in your arousal and pulled them out to suck on them. The site almost made you come right there.
You tasted delicious to him, just like how he imagined all those times he did the unholy while thinking of you. It was the perfect mixture of salty and sweet
You grabbed his neck and pulled him in an eager kiss. Lips clashing away at each other like it was a battle. His hand went back inside your underwear and wasted no time before pushing in two fingers. His thumb played your clit like a guitar.
You whimpered against his lips as his other hand went inside your crop top and squeezed you like a lemon. The more he tasted your cherry lip gloss the more he craved for it.
"Jung-... baby, I'm gonna cum." You warned him and he rubbed you even even faster. His two fingers buried so deep inside you that he could stroke your walls.
As you came down from your high your fingers started to immediately work on the buttons of his jeans.
Your mouth was watering at the thought of his cock. You wanted a taste again.
"__, somebody's gonna walk in." He said as you quickly pushed him against the bookshelf and pulled down his zipper.
"Shh... if you don't make any nose, nobody would know." You murmured against his lips that were now shining with your pink lip gloss. You slowly started pumping his cock that was now hard and hot against your hand. "Do you want me to make you cum?" He hesitantly nodded and you happily sunk down on your knees to take him in your mouth.
When your warm wet lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Jungkook realized how hard it was going to be to stay silent.
*******
Spending the night in Jungkook's room has almost became a daily occurrence to you. It has been exactly three weeks since you first gave him the best orgasm of his life.
It was now like a daily schedule that you would go to his place after college and hang out with him, sometimes it would end in you on your knees, showing him the gates of heaven and sometimes it would end innocently with the two of you cuddling and talking about anything and everything.
You have not taken the next step yet, it wasn't that he never asked you to, you just wanted him to be completely sure before doing that.
There was one more thing, you were scared. Scared to take the next step with him. What if after you have sex with him you become bored. You know you like him too much but still, you were scared to break his heart. He was too innocent for that, you can never live with yourself if you ever made him sad.
Right now you were sitting on his bed with a gaming console in your hand whining at the fact that Jungkook would let you win.
It wasn't that you were bad at playing video games, it was that Jungkook was too good, you watched at the boy with a pout as he defeated your team for the third time in a row.
"Oh my god, what are you not good at?"
"I'm going easy on you."
"Such a show off." You said, playfully rolling your eyes.
"Let's play a game that you are good at."
"Ummm... Lets play Tekken."
"Ok." He obliged before putting on the game that you demanded. "What does winner gets?" He asked and you raised your eyebrow.
"Whatever they want."
"Whatever?"
"Whatever."
"I was gonna let you win but not anymore."
"Nooo, don't be mean, go easy on me."
"You ready?" He asked and you nodded, eyes squinting at focus as you looked at the TV screen. Jungkook felt a strange kind of serenity when he looked at you. Nobody ever has been so quick to tear down his walls. You not only tore down his wall but also made a home inside.
Nobody knows you, not really. They wouldn't say those things if they did. You were sweet, kind, beautiful inside out. You were mot even a single thing that people described you to be. Quite the opposite.
"Oh my god you lost!" You exclaimed all of a sudden pulling him out of the train of his thoughts. "Oh my god, I can't believe I won, I Won."
You got up from the bed and started jumping around, if an outsider looked they would think you won a lottery and not just a video game.
"Wait, did you let me win?" You stopped jumping and stood in front of him with a not-so-threatening pout.
"What? No. I would never, you are just so good at it."
"Of course, I am." You mockingly brushed of your shoulders and Jungkook decided right there that he was in love with you. Maybe it was too soon, maybe you wouldn't reciprocate it but he was utterly and madly in love with you. And he doesn't care if you don't love him back, he would love enough for the both of you.
"Ok now what do I get?" He would honestly give you both his kidneys if you asked but you didn't. "I want you to give me piggy back ride tomorrow between all my classes." Your choice of demand made him laugh.
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
"Huh, i thought you would ask for my PlayStation."
"Oh my god, I could have right? I want to change my wish."
"No, no take backs."
*******
Jungkook's roommate left town for a while so you decided to take advantage of it and make dinner for the two of you. Jungkook helped you with chopping all the veggies.
"Are you sure this is how it supposed to look."
"Are you calling my shrimps ugly?"
The poor little animals have become a little black inside the frying pan but you were sure they would taste good.
"No, not ugly, they just don't look..."
"What? Edible? Fine, I'm gonna eat it all by myself, don't come begging for a piece if it tastes heavenly." You were so confident in your creation that it reminded him of that night when you made him that 'special cocktail' that tasted like piss but he didn't have the heart to tell you that.
You don't remember the last time you hung out with someone this long that too without any alcohol or weed, and yet it was the most fun you had in a while. Jungkook made you feel emotions you thought you had lost touch with. Even with Yoongi, you had never experienced this kind of pure bliss. He made you feel whole, like you didn’t need drugs or sex to fill any emptiness. With Jungkook, there’s no pressure to uphold a certain image or look flawless. You can simply be yourself, and it’s enough to make you feel truly happy.
As you served the forbidden looking dish on both of the plates he pulled out his phone to snap a picture. You couldn't help but smile, striking a playful pose for the camera. The photos turned out great—you looked flawless. The shrimp, however, was undeniably inedible. But of course, he’d never admit that.
You spat out the content of your mouth into the dustbin.
"Oh my god. EW. Stop eating it. Its so salty i feel like i gulped acid."
"I think it tastes fine." Jungkook said chewing the burnt fish.
"Spit it out."
In the end, you decided to order pizza, and despite your insistence, Jungkook insisted on paying for it. You both settled on his bed, enjoying the pizza while watching a new anime he had introduced you to.
Despite the screen in front of you flashing with gore and violence, you’d never felt as at peace as you did in that moment. With your stomach full and your head resting on his warm, bare chest, his fingers gently weaving through your hair, everything felt perfectly calm.
"Jungkook?" You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.
"Hmm?"
"Why were you so scared of me before?" Your question made him pause, now that he think of it he doesn't seem to know the answer. Sure he still remembers all those horrible things he heard and regrettably believed about you but he doesn't know why he used to be so scared of this sweetest girl he has ever met that he couldn't even form a sentence without stuttering. You have never personally been mean to Jungkook nor has he ever seen you do anything remotely as horrible as people say.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"You were so pretty, and so far out of my league that maybe I thought it was a sin to just be in the same vicinity as you." His answer made you burst out laughing.
"What? Do you still believe that?"
"Do I believe that you are the prettiest girl I've ever seen? Yes."
"No do you still believe that I am out of your league and it is a sin to be with me?"
"Yes, if anyone in college finds out I'm cuddling with the __ __ they would sacrifice me."
"Stop joking, I'm serious. You can't think that I am out of your league or something."
"You are though."
"I am NOT."
"You could literally have any guy that you point your finger at."
"And here I am, laying in your bed, begging to suck your cock every other night." Your words made him twitch inside his boxers. "You are gorgeous, smart, funny and you make me feel so good, you can't possibly think that I am out of your league."
"You know, I used to... I used to think that you were asking me out to make fun of me." His confession made you laugh again.
"What? Really?"
"I mean... there was you and then there was me. I never thought I was your type. And I never really heard good things about you either"
"My god, people really think I'm the devil don't they?"
"Who cares what they think?"
"Hmm... What else did you hear about me?"
"Nothing that matters, what matters is who you really are. And you are the kindest and sweetest person ever and you give really good head." You burst out laughing again.
"Oh my god, you heard that as well?"
"Everyone did."
"Wow, I'm glad that we put that out of question."
The anime playing on the screen was long forgotten. The boy laying in your arms was far more interesting. You stared into each other's eyes for how long you don't really know, you know you can stare into them so much more longer.
*******
Making out with Jungkook felt like an habit now. You were currently laying under him in nothing but your underwear while the anime still plays in the background on mute.
No matter how many times you kiss him you can never not be surprised by how sweet his lips taste, just like him. His hands, gentle yet strong, groped every inch of your body like he was holding onto his life.
Jungkook pulled away from your lips, looking down at your body and a sudden fire burst through him. You were so beautiful that he couldn't get over the fact that you were under him. He must have done some really great work in his past life and he was now getting rewarded for it.
"What happed baby boy?" You ask pulling him out of his train of thougts.
"I want to please you."
"You are pleasing me."
"No... like you do it for me. I want to... I want to use my mouth." You smirked, it was always so cute when he stuttered.
"I don't understand, be more clear baby." You certainly do understand but it was so much fun teasing him.
"God, I want to eat you out, __. Can I?" Your words got lost in your throat so you nodded your head in affirmation.
Jungkook started kissing a very slow trail down your body make you almost die from anticipation. When his mouth finally came in contact with your bundle of nerves, your whole body started shivering.
"Oh god baby, that's right." His hand took yours and put it in his hair as if telling you to guide him. "Use your tongue." And like ever so obedient, he did.
His tongue was warm and even though it was his first time it felt very skillful. His tongue, licked up your juices in big and wide strokes. Pouty lips sucking in your clit every now and then.
"Now put a finger inside, baby." he followed your instruction almost immediately. Long thick finger sinking in your heat while his tongue licked you.
His other free hand went up to grab at your breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh and occasionally twisting your nipples.
With a last few rhythmic strokes of his tongue and finger you were cumming.
"I'm cumming, baby boy." Your words sounded like reward to his ears. His tongue out and mouth was open, ready to drink in everything that you were about to offer.
You have never squirted in your life and this boy who looks like, he has never even seen a pussy in his life just made you squirt in like 5 minutes. You wonder what more talents were he hiding.
"Come here, baby. I want you inside me." You said pulling him by his arms, closer to you. He was already so hard that your word made him feel like he was going to pop a vessel on his dick.
You changed your position and now he was under you while you pulled out a condom from your purse and rolled it on his cock without wasting another minute.
This scene in front of Jungkook was a little too familiar, he has dreamt of this exact moment only every other night ever since you started talking to him.
Your hands guiding his to your chest and you slowly sunk down on him, your warm pussy fitted his cock like a glove. Like they were made for each other. A loud whine left Jungkook's lips as soon as you settled on his dick.
"I've dreamt of this so many times." His arousal has turned off all his filters, his confession made you smirk.
"You did? SO naughty. And you dare to act like you are the most innocent guy on this planet."
"It was because of you, you make me think all those lewd things."
"Oh yeah? Did you touch yourself after waking up?" You asked as you slowly started jumping up and down in a perfect rhythm and his words got caught in his throat. "tell me, baby. Did you?"
"Yesss... Aghh fuckkk.. Everytime."
"Mhmm. God you feel so good. Was your hand as good as my pussy?"
"No, Noth-- Ahh.. Nothing compares to this. Your pussy is so good." He cried out in pleasure as both of your rode close to your orgasms.
"Tell me, baby. What else did you dream about?"
"I- I dreamt... About you riding my face."
"You would like that wouldn't you?"
"Please... I love your pussy so much."
"Rub my clit, Jungkook." Jungkook did as told and started rubbing your clit with his thumb.
"I'm about to cum." He cried out.
"Me too baby, just hold for a few seconds."
After a few more seconds of riding his heavenly dick you both were finally coming down from your high. Lips finding each others as soon as you were done. Your bodies seemed to have calmed down as you gave each other slow and deep kisses.
"Wow, that... That was the best sex I've ever had. And I'm not just saying it, Jungkook." Jungkook's face turned pink at the compliment. Honestly he never thought he would last this long if he ever had the chance to have sex with you. "Did you like it as well?" He was shy again all of a sudden.
"Yes. I would... I would like to do it again."
"Me too, baby me too, but lets get some sleep right now."
After you you both cleaned up and jumped into his bed, you realized how tired you became. Your eyes closed as soon as your head rested on his chest.
Once your breath turned even and you fell asleep, or Jungkook thought you fell asleep he pressed his lips against your forehead and gave you a kiss. A kiss that was a lot more meaningful then any kiss on the lips.
"I love you." He whispered, thinking you were fast asleep but you heard it. You heard as his breath became even as well and he fell deep into sleep.
For once you don't feel like you have to leave. You don't feel like you are out of place and you don't feel like you are incapable of love.
For once you don't want to get up in the morning and sneak out before he's awake, instead you want to stay over, you want to have breakfast with him. You want to sit on his counter as he cooks and you want to hear him say he loves you again.
Maybe you wouldn't say it back right now if he said it when you were awake but you like to believe that one day, very soon, you will also whisper it to him as he falls asleep.
*******
Tags : @hrtsj1m
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madlori · 20 hours ago
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Facebook Official
whoops my hand slipped and I banged out 1800 words of fix-it fic in like an hour. btw i think the Abby connection is dumb but I'm making it work.
Three years after reconciling with Buck, newly engaged to him, Tommy gets a phone call from a certain former dispatcher...who's just seen some interesting news via a Facebook Relationship Status post.
*****
(also on AO3)
To say that the phone call blindsided him would have been the understatement of the century.
He was just sitting at home watching the game, having a beer, minding his own business. Evan was on shift — must be a busy one, he’d only gotten two text messages all evening, one bitching about not having had time to eat dinner and the other about idiots who texted while driving.
His phone rang. Unknown number. Normally he wouldn’t have picked up, but with all the wedding preparations, a lot of vendors were calling. It was a little late to be making business calls, just after 8 pm, but he’d quickly learned that business norms meant little in the wedding planning business. “Hello?”
“Tommy?”
“Yes?” A woman’s voice. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Pause “You’re marrying Buck??” A slightly hysterical note of disbelief entered the woman’s voice as she said the name.
And all at once, he knew who it was. Shit fuck motherfucker why didn’t we get ahead of this one.
“Abby. Um…”
“Evan Buckley? My ex-fiancé and my ex-boyfriend are marrying each other?”
“Small world, huh?” he said, going for levity.
“Buck’s not even gay!”
“No, he’s not. He’s bisexual.”
“I’m…okay. I’m sorry, it’s just…this is a lot of information to get all at once.”
“How did you even find out? Don’t you live in Phoenix?”
“Buck posted one of those relationship status things on Facebook.”
“Oh. I barely use Facebook.”
“Me either, but Buck does, and I hadn’t been on there in awhile, but I logged on and that was like the third post I saw!”
Tommy remembered the day Buck had made the post. They hadn’t really put their relationship on social media much - Buck posted photos of them on Instagram sometimes - and he hadn’t done one of those stupid relationship status things for them until they got engaged. They’d trawled their phones for the right pic, eventually settling on one taken at a 118 barbecue of them together, smiling, arms slung around waists. He hadn’t said so, but he’d gotten a little emotional over what Evan wrote on the post:
Evan Buckley is engaged to Tommy Kinard.
“It’s been a long road, but we made it. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this man. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I love you!”
“Well…I’m sorry that was an unpleasant surprise for you,” Tommy said, carefully.
She sighed. “I don’t know that it was…unpleasant. But a surprise, for sure. How do you even know Buck? How did you meet?”
“We’re both firefighters, it’s not that surprising that we could have met, is it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“And he was at my old firehouse. The one you refused to ever come to. But I guess you went when you were with him, didn’t you?”
“You never wanted me to meet your friends. I guess I found out why when you broke off our engagement.”
“I’m sorry, Abby. I know I said it then, but I’ll say it again now. I lied to myself, I lied to a lot of people. It took me almost trapping you in my lie, when you did not deserve that, to break me out of it.”
“I forgave you ages ago. We don’t have to go over all that again.”
“I met Evan…I guess it’s four years ago? We started dating not long after. I, um…was the first man he dated. I guess I made him realize some things about himself.”
“Just transforming lives everywhere you go, huh?” she said, a teasing note entering her voice. Tommy was happy to hear it.
“Yeah, well, I almost screwed it up. I broke up with him six months later. He was diving in headfirst, too fast, just all in and wanting to move in with me.”
“That sounds just like Buck.”
“I panicked and ended it before I could get in any deeper with him.”
“It was too late, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. I was already in love with him.”
“He’s easy to love. Too easy,” she said, quietly. “But you got back together, obviously.”
“Took a little while. Almost a year. I dated a few guys, he dated a few people, but nothing stuck for either of us - I know now it’s because we were still hung up on each other. We have a friend in common and we’d hear about each other through him…but I didn’t really see him until we ended up on a major incident call together. I sustained a minor injury - just a scrape, really - and Hen from his house patched me up. I was sitting there on the ambulance deck, more or less left to myself, and he came waltzing up with that eyebrow raised like he knew all my secrets.” Abby chuckled, like she knew the exact expression he was describing. “He just said, are you done being fucking stupid yet?”
“And you were.”
“Yep. I was. He took me home that night and we’ve barely been apart since. Got engaged a year later.”
“You sound happy.”
“I am. I’m ecstatic. I can’t believe I got a second chance with him. I kicked myself for ending it like that, I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do. You thought you weren’t enough for him to want to keep you.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s dumb.”
“That’s what he says.”
They sat there not speaking for what felt like a long time.
“Well…” Abby said. “I feel like I just unloaded on you out of the blue.”
“You kinda did,” he said, smiling.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”
“I’m glad you did. You know…Evan and I didn’t realize we had you in common until our six month anniversary dinner. In fact, it was that revelation that sort of started us on the way to breaking up for awhile. But that’s been so long now and it hasn’t come up in a few years. I almost forgot about it.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said, her grin audible. “I’m glad you’re both happy. I have a lot of regret over Buck, how I left things with him. I assume he’s told you.”
“He has. If it helps, he doesn’t have any bad feelings towards you.”
“It does help. Thank you for that.” She sighed. “I’ll let you go. I just saw that Facebook post and spiralled a little bit.”
“Understandable.”
“Please tell Buck I say hello. And I wish you both so much happiness, Tommy.”
“Thank you. And I will.”
She hung up. Tommy stared at the phone for a moment, then opened his text message thread with Evan.
You’re not gonna believe what just happened.
*****
When Evan got home at 7 am, they had their usual two hours to share breakfast and maybe a quick fuck before Tommy had to be on shift himself. They tried to sync their schedules so their off days coincided, but it didn’t always work.
“Holy shit, why didn’t we get ahead of that one?” Evan said as he burst in the door, not even bothering with “hello.” His shoes and duffel went flying and he bustled into the kitchen where Tommy was mixing the pancake batter.
“Yeah, I had the same thought,” he said, leaning over to kiss him hello.
Evan went to the coffee pot. “I didn’t even think about it, that she might see.”
“Neither did I.”
“How’d she sound?”
“Really surprised at first. Incredulous, even? Like in the what-are-the-odds way.”
“Kinda like when I found out we’d both dated her.”
“Yeah, but you’re my himbo now,” Tommy said, smirking. “No, she was just shocked. I gave her the quick rundown, and she ended up congratulating us.”
“Did you tell her it’s her fault we broke up for a year?” Evan said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.
“I think the proper person to bear the fault is me.”
“And also me. Who asks someone to move in after six months? Before even saying ‘I love you?’ And when you had a house!”
“I say we blame Josh. He got you all juiced up with that damn Glee speech.” After they’d reconciled, Evan had given him chapter and verse on his mind-boggling thought processes on that last fateful day.
“He got me feeling guilty, is what he did. That I judged you for lying to Abby. Overcorrecting is one of my special gifts.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, while I’m overcorrecting…why don’t we invite her?”
Tommy looked up. “To our wedding?”
“Sure, why not? She can flip a coin whose side she sits on,” Evan said, grinning like the mischievous imp that he was.
“Evan, darling, love of my life, we are not inviting our ex to our wedding.”
He scrunched up his face. “Ew. ‘Our’ ex? Makes it sound like we were in a throuple.”
“Ew, indeed.”
He cocked his head. “I dunno, though. The thought’s kinda sexy.”
“Not to me! No vaginas anywhere near my bedroom. Kinsey 6, remember?”
“Of course, my apologies.”
Tommy looked at his innocent wide-eyed face for a few beats. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“Can I help it if the thought of two people I have found intensely attractive doing sexy things is appealing?”
“Can I help it if the thought of Chris Hemsworth going down on you has gotten me through some lonely nights?”
“Okay, I get the point. Shutting up now.” 
Tommy put a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Your shift okay?”
“Fine. Busy. I’m a bit wired. Do we have time for me to bounce on your dick for a bit before you have to head out?”
“For that, I’ll make time.” He sat down at the table at Evan’s side with his own pancakes. Evan slid a hand over and squeezed his thigh.
“Missed you, though,” he said, chewing.
“I always miss you when you’re on shift,” Tommy said.
Evan looked up at that, meeting his eyes. “Tommy, sometimes I miss you when you get up to get a beer.”
The simplicity, the sincerity of it made his chest tighten a little. He leaned forward, put his fingers under Evan’s chin and pulled him into a soft kiss, just like the first time. “I love you,” he whispered. 
“I love you, too.”
“And we are not inviting my ex-fiancee who is also your ex-girlfriend to our wedding.”
Evan grinned. “Deal.”
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welcometohellfilm · 19 hours ago
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Congrats to everyone who has been working on W2H2! 🎉 If it's alright, I'd like to ask to ask 2 questions:
Is there by chance an official ref of colors for Debbie, or is it still up to interpretation at the moment?
Would you say that your personal, real life experiences within the 10 years moving from W2H to W2H2 shifted the tone/story of the series in some way? Something that I've always been fascinated with when I started looking more into W2H was the shift in Sock's character from the original comic -> first film -> second film, and Jonathan's character from the first film -> second film.
Thank you! ✨
I actually just made some 'official'-ish colors for Debbie! Her voice actor Kaitlyn wanted something to use on a banner for conventions haha... so here you go!
Tumblr media
2. I'm not really sure how to answer this one, haha. I mean I've definitely changed as a person over the course of making each iteration of W2H. I started the comic while I was at community college, before I went to art school. I adapted it into an animation for my graduation project. And I started W2H2 a couple years after I graduated college. So there's a good 2-3 years between each attempt at W2H I've done, haha. I think a lot of my original ideas from the comic had to change because it needed to be condensed into a short film. I didn't even GET to Jonathan yet in the comic! Some things just didn't make sense to me anymore, like the idea of Sock already having a human body count. It'd just be absurd for him to be able to hide it for so long! Plus, if I made it so that Sock has only ever entertained the idea of murder, it makes his new job that much more appealing-- it's a chance for him to really lean in to this thing he's always had to hide. Between the first and second films though, I mean... I think there's been some tonal shift, for sure (I don't know about a character shift? We'll get to that haha) But basically, when I was first thinking about W2H2, my idea was "Sock and Jonathan hang out and attempt to figure out touch physics, also there's some drama about a journal Jonathan keeps." All of the hell stuff is something that came from bouncing ideas around with my friends, Michael and Neil. I was worried that sending Jonathan to hell would be too bonkers for a "2nd episode", but we all kinda agreed that enough time had passed that the fans would probably enjoy something higher stakes, so it would be fine. (I'll give everyone a moment to realize this conversation would've been happening in 2015-16... ha.)
We also kind of thought, y'know... I have no idea how many more of these there's even gonna' be, so why not go a little bigger with this one? W2H2 is a higher stakes story than what I set out to make in the beginning, that's for sure. It is interesting to compare all of them.. the employee handbook was actually from the comic and I cut that because it wasn't helpful for W2H... but then it became helpful for W2H2, so it came back! Haha. I'm curious to know in what ways people think the characters have changed though. (And is that a good thing or a bad thing?) Especially a character like Jonathan, no one's really even seen that much of him yet, I think most of the characterization comes from fandom, or like... art I've drawn, I guess? Haha... I'm not sure! I guess Sock's a little more confident and antagonistic in this one (though he'll have his moments of hesitation... we're only at Part 1 right now!), and Jonathan has had to become a more vocal/active character, just by nature of the kind of story it is, I suppose. But yeah, I'm not sure! Happy to hear your guys' thoughts though!
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nakylvr · 2 days ago
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hiiii can I request gp!sophia x fem!reader with angst prompt 1 + smut prompt 10 where basically reader just had a huge fight with her ex bf and went to sophia bc she’s her best friend (that she’s also lowkey really attracted to) and sophia tries to cheer reader up (by fucking her) but she’s really sweet and fluffy during it🫶🏼
(sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but I hope you get what I mean😭english is not my first language💜)
bestie this is so good...you made perfect sense i understood completely 🫶 thank you so much for requesting!
— ALL I WANTED ⚓️
sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader
summary: angst prompt 1("i didn't know where else to go") + smut prompt 10("don't worry, i'll take care of you") from my 100 follower event OR you have a big fight with your boyfriend and break up. going to your best friend sophia, things take a turn by how she "cheers you up"
warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, soft dom!sophia, sub!reader, soft sex, lots of praise, unprotected sex, cumming inside
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you stood in front of the door of your best friend's apartment. your arms were folded in on yourself, practically hugging yourself as you waited for the door to open. it was cold outside, feeling the chill breeze as you wore merely a thin sweater and leggings. you glance away for a split second, and suddenly the door opens revealing sophia, whose expression quickly goes from happy to concerned at the sight of you.
"oh my god, are you okay?" she immediately questions. "here, come inside. you're probably freezing." she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.
"sorry for showing up like this," you apologize quietly as you look down at the ground. "i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks as you say this.
sophia can instantly tell something is wrong. the first thing being you apologizing when she would never be upset with you for randomly showing up in the middle of the night. second being the way your eyes won't meet hers. and third, the crack in your voice.
"hey, hey," she says softly, placing her hands on your shoulders. "what's wrong? what happened?" her tone is so caring and genuine like she always is with you. she hates seeing you upset to the point of near crying, but she doesn't know how to help if she doesn't know what's wrong.
"it-it's just my boyfriend and i got in a huge fight...he broke up with me and basically kicked me out so...i came here," your voice is quiet as you speak, still not being able to meet her eyes.
sophia's eyes go wide for a second at your answer. but when you finally look at her, eyes filled with tears, her breath hitches in her throat. she can't lie and say she doesn't think this is a blessing in disguise given the fact she's been pining for you for years now, but couldn't do anything with that stupid boyfriend of yours around, cause she does think it. she knows you feel the same, at least she thinks it with the lingering stares you've been giving her more recently and the way you've talked to her lately. she tries to think quickly of what's the best option to do right now, too many different thoughts running through her head as she stares back at you. hesitantly, she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face in her hands, seeing the way your eyes subtly widen at her action and hoping she isn't fucking this up. "how about i help cheer you up?"
you're frozen in your spot as sophia asks you the question, and you're not sure how to respond. you don't have a complete understanding of what she's meaning, your mind going in a direction you assume would never happen ever no matter how much you wanted. "what do you mean by that?" you respond quietly.
"whatever you want it to mean," sophia answers in the same voice. "i'm here for anything you need or want."
those words are enough reassurance you need to finally say what you've been wanting to say for a while now. "kiss me," you whisper.
sophia tries to fight the smile that creeps on her face at your reply, but fails miserably as she leans in and closes the gap between you and her. she can taste the remainder of your lipgloss on your lips that you applied earlier in the day, sighing softly against your lips. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you before parting from the kiss. your face is inches away from hers, and your fingers play with her hair as you stare into her eyes.
"you're a really good kisser," you murmur. "how were you planning on cheering me up?" you ask next.
"will you let me show you?" sophia responds. "let me take care of you like you deserve." her hands move to your waist, somehow managing to pull you even closer.
"please," you say in a quiet voice.
that's all sophia needs to hear before she's pulling you to her bedroom, kissing you continuously and almost tripping when she hits the bed. she swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the bed, crawling above you and peering down at you. her hands find the hem of your swearer and she looks at you, silently asking for your permission to remove it. you nod your head, and she slowly pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra and leggings.
"you're so beautiful," sophia murmurs, her hands drifting up and down your torso. they stop at the waistband of your leggings, her fingers hooking around it and lightly tugging them down your legs and off along with your panties. "you have no idea how much i've wanted this," she says, her eyes wandering over your body, her cock throbbing in her boxers at the sight of you in front of her. she quickly discards her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her boxers that had a wet spot from the precum leaking from her tip. she brings a hand between your legs, fingers dragging along your folds before slowly slipping two into your wet heat.
"s-sophia," you whimper out when she slowly thrusts her fingers in and out of you.
your walls suck her fingers in greedily, making her only want you more as she pulls her fingers out after a few seconds, needing to feel you around her cock. she strips off her boxers, her cock springing out, the head red and dripping beads of precum. supporting herself up with one of her arms near your head, the other holds the base of her length, sliding up and down your dripping pussy, collecting your slick on her tip. "don't worry, i'll take care of you," she tells you softly. "are you ready?"
you nod your head, whimpering at the feeling of her rubbing against you. "yes- please i need you so bad," your voice comes out whinier than you wanted, but you can't find it in you to care seeing the way sophia's eyes darken at your words.
slowly, she pushes inside of you, watching the way your eyes roll back at the size of her filling you up. sophia curses under her breath at your walls squeezing around her tightly, stopping once she was fully in you. "you tell me when you want me to move, okay?" she presses a quick kiss on your lips.
your jaw falls open as you feel her stretching you out, a quiet whimper coming from you when she stops. you nod again at her words, taking a few shallow breaths before speaking. "y-you can move now."
inch by inch, sophia pulls out before sliding back in, the wetness of your pussy making it oh so easy for her to build a slow pace. "you're so pretty," she says, leaning down and kissing you. "god, you're so tight," she hisses against your lips.
quiet moans fall from your lips as she sets a slow pace, almost embarrassed of getting too loud, whimpering at her words as she kisses you. your arms hook around her neck, pulling her closer. parting from the kiss, you breathe heavily as you stare up at her, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet.
sophia's eyes don't leave yours once, keeping eye contact while maintaining her slow pace. she didn't want to get rough with you in your current state, she was happy enough for this to be happening in general. plus, she seriously doubted your dumbass boyfriend gave a fuck about whether you actually came or not. so she was going to make sure you would. "don't be shy, princess," she pushes some of your hair out of your face. "let me hear you, my love. i wanna hear the pretty noises you make."
your face heats up at the realization that she wants to hear you, finally letting go of your lip from your teeth and freely moaning like she wanted. "sh-shit sophia," you whine her name. you're surprised at how slow and gentle the girl above you is being, as if she was worried she would hurt you when you know she would never even think of hurting you once. but, it was nice. she was right, she was making you feel the way you deserved.
hearing her name coming from you in that whiny tone has sophia's cock twitching in you, letting out quiet grunts with her gaze still on you. "how does it feel, baby?" she asks you, genuine. she needs to know she's making you feel good, she needs to hear you say it. she doesn't know how she's keeping up this slow, almost agonizing pace, but seeing your reactions each time she slowly pushes back in is enough for her to keep at it. "tell me how it feels."
"g-good," you manage out through moans. "it fe-feels so g-good- fuck- you're making m-me feel so good," you emphasize on 'you're' so that she knows that she's the only one on your mind. it was true, you couldn't even think about anything else except for the way she feels like this. you didn't even remember why you came here, and you didn't care, either.
"fuck," sophia breathes out at your response. she can tell you've long forgotten why you originally came to her place, and that mixed with you emphasizing that she's the one making you feel this good has her swelling with pride. "you're so beautiful like this. i love you so so much," she mumbles, not realizing the way her words could sound to you.
you can barely process her words, only hearing the 'i love you', and that alone has you clenching tightly around her cock, somehow getting even wetter than you already were. "i lo-love you too- o-oh my god!" your eyes roll back when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "fu-fuck!" you feel tears welling in your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.
seeing the tears in your eyes has sophia cooing at you, cupping your cheek with one of her hands and wiping the stray tear that falls. "shh, you're close, yeah?" she says quietly. she slowly speeds up her thrusts just a little bit, pushing so deep into you that she can practically see the outline of her cock bulging from your stomach making her twitch again. "i'm close too- shit!- tel-tell me where you want me," her words are starting to get interrupted by little whimpers escaping her throat as she feels herself get closer.
you nod your head quickly at her question, murmuring out, "ye-yes," through your noises that are getting louder and whinier. her next words have your head spinning to come up with a response. staring up into her eyes as she stares down at you, you know the answer you're going to give. "i-in me, please, i'm o-on the pill, please cum in me, please," you're begging for her in a way that would be embarrassing to you in any other moment, but you can't find it in you to care.
sophia's eyes go wide when you tell her what you want, but she isn't going to deny your requests in any shape or form. "don't worry, my love," she tells you before kissing you, moaning into the kiss and speeding up just a little bit more.
whining her name as she kisses you, you pull her down impossibly closer to you, your bodies practically pressed against each other. your legs wrap around her hips, bringing her even closer to you. pulling out of the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes as short breaths and moans of her name leave your mouth. "f-fuck, sophia 'm so close,"
"go on," she pecks your lips quickly. "cum for me, my pretty girl. so pretty for me like this, god," she groans quietly.
after one final thrust, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum so hard you end up seeing white, your hands clawing at her back. not even a minute later, sophia is putting her face in your neck and letting out a long drawn-out whine as spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. she stays there for a moment or two, breathing heavily into your neck before slowly pulling out of you. a whimper falls from your lips at the feeling, your arms still hooked around her neck and holding her close to you.
"do you...really love me in this way?" you whisper quietly.
sophia pulls her face from your neck at your hesitant question, looking down at you and nodding her head. "of course. i just didn't want to do anything while you were with him," she answers truthfully.
you nod slowly, clearly hesitating about asking the next question you were thinking of. "do you want...to be with me?"
there's a look in sophia's eyes that you can't figure out, as if she's struggling with a response. "yes," she says in a quiet voice.
"then i'm yours," you smile at her, moving your hands to cup her cheeks. "i love you."
sophia's face instantly lights up when you speak, a wide smile tugging on her lips. "i love you too, so much."
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guiltycorp · 1 day ago
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Even though I loved the writing of LoL Jayvik I really appreciate that Arcane is going for a different approach so far, makes things feel less predictable! Instead of ideological differences driving the divide between them it is more so that they are just... out of sync so far?? I mean, during last season Viktor even before his diagnosis was eagerly meddling with the Hexcore with little regard to safety, then straight up went for the illicit and damaging drug to facilitate the transformation process, then when he ran out of that drug he proceeded to try using Hexcore without it (when he already TESTED that on plants and should have known it would backfire) which killed Sky... At which point he went oh shit, ok, I should stop meddling with this thing and just die peacefully maybe. It's not very clear how much of that he told Jayce aside from making him promise to destroy the Hexcore, but Jayce's surprised reaction in s2 when hearing about Sky makes me think it wasn't much at all...? So Jayce doesn't feel as much of an asshole for, once again, going against Viktor's explicit wishes. He pretty much never has the full picture before being forced to make a decision! Idk it makes him very sympathetic to me ngl, just feeling more and more guilt but continuing to fuck up due to lack of knowledge and experience, is that not relatable? And aside from being entirely unprepared for Viktor's death even after s1 I think it's like Jinx says in this Act too, it was something he could fix for once... Perhaps this is why he agrees to the use of Hextech weapons, too, feeling like it's the only thing he can do to 'help' the people he cares about and protect himself too (I guess killing just 1 defenseless child wasn't enough of a learning moment for him lmao). Despite again, this going very much against Viktor's wishes (and Mel's!! we didn't get her with Jayce after this but I imagine she's not very happy with him either... Viktor&Mel team up when). This time Jayce is the one just going for it and hoping for the best despite knowing very little of how it works. I also love how a lot of us in the fandom and also Singed in the series assumed Jayce would be appalled by Viktor's experiments but instead... he immediately goes even further :D And when Viktor wakes up and goes bye Jayce is like ?? but then by the end of the next episode he starts to realise that ohh alright so maybe yeah they should have stopped... Who'd have thunk. I'm not super up to date with League lore but is it really that difficult to find a sane mage for consultation purposes? ...Also I really doubt that hitting that thing (wild rune?) with his hextech-powered hammer was a good move lmao and yet even in this it seems similar to what Viktor is currently doing. Both continue to use the arcane to try and fix things, Jayce through violence and Viktor through transmutation, but it kind of seems like the same kind of mistake. (they are just pretty bad scientists and always have been and i love that for them lmao)
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canonicallyobserving911 · 3 days ago
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The BS Tommy said to Buck during the breakup scene was classic, "It’s not you, it's me" language.
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I'm so happy they're over and I'm still celebrating the demise of that awful relationship. IMO, it should have ended in season 7 but I digress.
There were so many things in the BT 2.0 breakup scene that felt obscure and oblique to me and I've already posted about a couple of them (linked here). I'm still planning to do a full post on all of it but I think I figured out why the BS Tommy said during it seemed so out of left field. Two weeks ago, I posted about how the show went out of its way in 8x5 to illustrate the reasons why Buck and Tommy weren't compatible and I included an explanation of the way Buck believed Tommy was his boyfriend even though Tommy didn't consider Buck to be his (linked here). But in 8x6, everything about whatever they had was flipped and made to seem like Tommy really cared about Buck but HE DIDN'T.
The truth is he's always known Buck wants Eddie and I think it's possible he was planning to end it during dinner after he gave him the Lakers tickets. It seems like he was trying to get Buck to realize or admit he'll always be in love with Eddie but there's one thing he didn’t count on and that's Clinger!Buck. When Tommy said he could "Take Eddie" to the game, it was his ploy to see if Buck would take the bait and he kind of did when he asked him if he'd be ok with it. But Tommy turned it into one of his rude, unfunny dry ass jokes by responding with "And die." Who TF even says that? No one just like that whole "vision in a cone" line he said in 8x1.
Anyway, my point is Tommy used the classic "It’s not you, it's me" breakup language on Buck because it was the only excuse he could come up with to end it. He had tried everything else with his dismissive attitude, laughing at him with his coworkers and not kissing him anymore but Clinger!Buck was holding on for dear life. The final straw was when Buck said, "I want you to move in with me" and it was the thing that sealed the deal and Tommy realized he had to get out and it’s the path he chose to do it.
They didn't know each other after 6 months and the proof was the anniversary gift and Buck not knowing anything about Tommy beyond the physical (déjà vu for all of Buck’s other relationships). Has Buck ever even been to Tommy’s house? Eddie has and it's CANON because Eddie said it in 7x4.
Tommy prefaced the breakup with several compliments when he said how handsome and great Buck is but then he said that BS about his heart would get broken and he wouldn't be able to take it 🙄. In the few episodes he was in, they never discussed love or anything else other than that daddy kink joke in 7x10. Therefore, their relationship was surface level so why in TF did Tommy say that?
The only answer that makes sense to me is he was having fun but Clinger!Buck was ready to take it to the next level and Tommy didn't want that. He told Buck that in 7x4 when he said "Dating someone you meet on a call never ends the way you expect" but Buck missed the memo and he’s still misunderstanding the assignment.
Eddie had already told Buck that in 6x15 but it’s evident Buck still doesn't realize he’s on the same hamster wheel he's been on since 2018.
The point of this post is Tommy did the "It’s not you, it's me" to breakup with Buck because that's what people say when they don't want to admit the truth. He was softening the blow of dumping him because Buck was being left behind again just like he was with Abby, Ali, Taylor and Natalia. Buck broke up with Taylor and Natalia but he didn't end it for the right reasons. He was unhappy with Taylor but their breakup wasn't about that and he knew Natalia was all about death when he started dating her so there's that.
It was a $hitty reason to end it especially with all the other things they could have used to breakup but for whatever reason, TM (showrunner) chose this option and I don’t like it because Tommy came out unscathed. He should've had to answer for his racist and bigoted past but he wasn't held accountable just like Gerarrd and that sucks.
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Buck’s in love with Eddie Diaz! He always has been but he’s still on the hamster wheel and he won't get off until he asks and answers the questions regarding what he wants for himself.
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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days ago
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LADS Xavier: Cat Nap | SFW
Just a quick thing I wrote up before work because I'm brain rotting on cat men rn. Also Grammarly corrected this one so hopefully there's no typos but I'm already running late for work so I ain't got time so ENJOY.
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Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Cat Xavier Fluff Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.
Blog Information | Masterlist
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Xavier
The door to your apartment opened with the smallest click; the noise echoed through it, causing Xavier’s ears to twitch as they perked up. He had been lying contently on the couch, curled up with a pillow held against his chest while the sun bore down just right on him. He let out a yawn as he tried to peer over to the entryway, hearing the rustling of keys and your shoes as you took them off and put them over by the door. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he propped his chin on the armrest of the soda, just waiting to see your form coming around the corner.
The soft padding of your feet drew nearer until he could finally see you. He didn’t realize he had been tensed up when he heard the door, but it was apparent the moment his entire body became more relaxed as you slowly approached him. He wanted attention, and that was for sure, and you were always more than happy to give it to him.
“Are you really taking a nap again? Weren’t you asleep when I left for work earlier?” you asked with a laugh, running your hands through his hair. He was almost purring when your hand came into contact with one of his ears, your touch gentle as you scratched right behind it.
“I can’t help it; you turned me into a cat,” Xavier said, leaning up into your palm. While it was true that you accidentally turned him into a cat boy three days ago using a new evol wand that you got as a prize, he was still always taking naps. Nothing really had changed other than the fact that he wasn’t going to work until he was back to normal, which would depend on when the wand would finish being repaired, as it broke the moment you used it.
You laughed, pinching the tip of his ear, and he let out a gasp, ducking his head more into the cushions. His blue eyes watched your hand with keen interest, almost wondering if you’d be doing it again. His ears were sensitive, and you knew that. It was why you had so much fun playing with them in the first place. “Really, again?” Xavier mumbled. He could see as you slowly came around to the other side of the sofa, sitting down on it and relaxing into the cushions.
Xavier didn’t even bother asking as he got closer to you and placed his head right onto your lap. His ears twitched as he looked at you, waiting for you to pet him. A small laugh escaped you as you went back to playing with his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp. This time, a nice, subtle purr came from his chest as he melted into your touch, savoring every moment of it.
“You know, I think in another life, you were a cat.” You mentioned noticing just how content he was despite the current situation. He really was just a sleepy cat who was always wanting your attention. Just the other night, he had been rubbing up against you until you finally gave him and cuddled with him. He was adorable, and you almost wished the wand would never be fixed so you could keep this version of Xavier forever.
Xavier grabbed your wrist and placed the palm of your hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it as he closed his eyes. You watched his nose wiggle a bit as he sniffed your scent; the faint floral smell invaded his senses, the same perfume that Tara had accidentally gotten on you earlier that day. “I like this smell.” He murmured, licking right on your wrist.
“I wish I could tell you what it was.” You laughed, “Tara was trying to spray herself, but the nuzzle was pointed at me. I used my arms to block my face, and it got all over them.” This got a laugh from Xavier as he continued to lick at your wrist. A small shiver went down your spine at the odd sensation. His tongue wasn’t dry like a cat, so it was still a bit slimy and left a wet trail over the skin there.
“Having fun?” you finally asked after a moment. His eyes finally opened and flicked over to you. You then watched as he gently nipped at your wrist just enough to have you flinching back, “Ow, Xayxay…” you said, the ending of his nickname coming out as a whine, “Did you really have to bite me?”
“I’m just a cat; what do you want from me.” He had a small pout on his lips and you could see the way his tail was swaying happily behind him. You shook your head and adjusted yourself; Xavier let out a small whine at your new position, trying to get comfortable again.
“You know, we could just cuddle in bed. I wouldn’t mind a nap after work.” You said, looking at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon since you had to go into the office extremely early. It was nice to get off at a normal, human hour instead of late at night after fighting wanderers all day.
Xavier didn’t bother responding. Instead, his hand was seeking out your own again. You moved it out of his reach, and you watched him go for it again. His new quirks were always amusing, and you were wondering briefly just how cat-like he could get. If he’d be like this for another day, perhaps you’d invest in a laser point. You let him take your hand again, and he kissed your palm, his ears flat against his head as he looked at you with a pleading expression.
“Lay down here with me.” He said, his tone almost coming out a little whiny. You sighed as you adjusted again, getting him off your lap as you lay down. His head found your chest where he relaxed, his arms around your torso like you were a giant plushie, “This is better…”
“Alright, but we’re only napping for a little. We still need to get dinner ready.” You reminded him, but you were only met with the gentle sound of his snoring as he passed out on you.
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